CHASING THE CARPENTER'S HEART のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Liam was in London, staring at the dark screen of his phone after Olivia’s call ended. A long breath escaped him. He could not tell Olivia that Chatrine already owned fifty percent of the gallery shares. No one was allowed to know that it was Chatrine who had funded the entire expansion project. She wanted everything kept secret, exactly as stated in their contract. In short, Chatrine did not want Olivia, or anyone else, to realize how much power she truly held now. Chatrine Madison was never merely an intern, nor simply an investor pouring money into the gallery’s future. She was a brilliant strategist with extraordinary business instincts. Every transformation happening now existed because of her. And Liam trusted her completely. The contractor Chatrine had been waiting for finally arrived. A luxurious black car stopped directly in front of the gallery. The door opened, and an elegant man stepped out wearing a tailored suit with a dark gray waistcoat. Two assistants followed b

Late afternoon was approaching. From across the street, a stranger wearing dark sunglasses quietly observed the gallery building. It was fairly large. Two stories tall, with a spacious parking area and a long warehouse stretching behind it. The man also noticed Olivia getting into her car before driving away. Only then did he take out his phone and make a call. “Are you truly interested in buying that old building, sir?” A photograph was sent along with estimated property values and market prices around Canterbury. “Offer a higher price.” “The building is part of the family inheritance now legally owned by Liam Conelli himself. I’m not sure the young man would be willing to sell inherited property.” “Use whatever strategy necessary to make him sell it.” The voice on the other end sounded cold and firm. “And remember, do not involve my name.” The mysterious man, acting as both spy and right hand, nodded silently. In the depth of midnight, Liam drove his pickup racing back tow

That morning, the air still felt damp. Thin dew clung to the windshield of Liam’s old pickup truck while small birds chirped among the trees near Isabel’s fence. Sunlight slowly crept over the roof of the house, washing the quiet yard in pale gold. Liam sat behind the wheel, his fingers just touching the ignition key. But before he could start the engine, the sharp sound of a ringing phone shattered the silence inside the cabin. The ringtone startled Chatrine slightly. She turned toward Liam and watched him slip his hand into his pocket before pulling out his phone. “Unknown number,” Liam muttered briefly before swiping the screen. “Yes, hello?” His voice was firm. Yet within seconds, his expression changed. From calm to serious. His eyes sharpened, his jaw tightened, as though the words on the other end had pierced straight through him. Chatrine remained silent, waiting. “What?” Liam straightened in his seat, his tone suddenly rising. “No. I will not sell that building, no ma

Even though the gallery warehouse had slowly returned to activity, the air was still thick with tension. The lingering scent of last night’s fire clung faintly to the walls and ceiling while hammers struck wood, saws scraped across boards, and workers spoke in hushed voices. But to Liam, every sound felt distant, muffled beneath the storm inside his head. He paced across the cold concrete floor with both hands gripping his hips, his head lowered, his thoughts trapped in one relentless image after another. Chatrine had ignored dozens of his calls. At last he stopped and drew in a long breath. Where did she go? Why isn’t she answering me? The anxiety inside him tightened until even breathing felt heavy. Before he could calm himself, the sharp ring of his phone shattered the air. Liam immediately reached into his pocket and glanced at the screen. An unfamiliar number. Canterbury area code. He answered at once. “Liam Conelli speaking.” A deep male voice came through the line. “M

Night had completely swallowed the city. Liam needed to return to the gallery and pick up Chatrine, whom he had left alone there. The pickup’s engine growled softly as he turned the wheel away from the hospital. Streetlights stretched endlessly ahead, slicing the darkness into pale ribbons of gold. His breathing was still heavy, not from physical exhaustion, but from the lingering anger and the new unrest weighing on his chest. The gallery grounds were already deserted. The workers had gone home long ago. But upstairs, the lights were still on. Police lines still blocked the burned front terrace, so Liam circled through the side entrance and climbed the stairs toward the office on the second floor. He found Chatrine seated behind her desk, her posture straight, her attention fixed on the glowing laptop screen. When she heard the door open, she looked up. “We’re going home. It’s late. You need rest.” Liam looked exhausted down to the bone, yet the firmness in his eyes remained u