Billionaire's Reborn Baby novel Chapter 67

Ferne looked at the unfurled paintings on the table. He had to say that these were pretty good ones. The artistic conception was fairly clean, pure and peaceful. At the corner of it lied a mini signature: Britt.

"Who's the painter?" Ferne asked casually.

Emily pointed at Harold and said, "Him."

Harold, "...."

Ferne nodded. Now he knew what had happened. He glanced at Harold in pity, like he was saying "It's really tough to work for someone else. So pathetic".

Harold glared back. His expression says for him, "I don't need your sympathy."

Ferne, however, was mistaken. What he read from Harold's gaze was "Yes, yes, after all she pays". Immediately, he turned his sympathetic gaze to Emily. "Why don't you keep the card Armando gave you last time? The money is enough for you to live the rest of your life comfortably."

"I feel at ease spending my own money." Emily looked at the painting on the table quietly.

"...."

Emily must not be mocking them, who still relied on their family, right?

"But I still want the fifty grand." Emily said righteously, "Since you offer the place to hang up my painting, then we'll take the fifty grand off from your 10 percent."

"...." This was settled? Did he agree? Emily, you were such a "negotiator"!

Before Emily left, she handed a note to Ferne, "My card number."

Ferne, "...."

Why was she so confident?

After that, a waiter came to clean up the table and asked Ferne, "Mr. Ferne, where should we put these paintings?"

Ferne took out a cigarette as he walked out and waved his hand, "Hang them up."

"Where?" The waiter asked.

"The most luxurious rooms. One in each room."

"Alright."

Having walked around, Ferne went back to the hall, and the waiter came to fawn on him. "Mr. Ferne, you are so thoughtful. There are exactly eleven rooms."

"...." It was not your boss who was thoughtful, but Emily.

If anyone dared to say again that Emily was a retard, he would definitely cut off the guy's head! With her intelligence, damn, he would for sure chase after her if he wasn't married.

And more importantly, she was so pretty. No, no, stop it.

Emily turned to look back when she walked out of the hotel. Harold followed her gaze and only saw an empty corridor. 'Could it be that seeing Mr. Vincent's buddy reminds Miss Emily of him?' Harold thought.

Having pondered for a moment, he started, "Mr. Vincent is abroad for a meeting."

Emily glanced at him, befuddled, "I'm just estimating how many paintings you can hang up in such a corridor."

Harold, "...."

They took a taxi and left. Having worn the mask for a bit too long, Emily felt a little hot, so she just took it off and played with the cap in her hand. She studied the driver casually until he looked at the rearview mirror and asked friendly, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." It was a little strange. This driver was apparently not one of Vincent's bodyguards, but somehow, she still had the feeling that Vincent sent him.

Kamron just walked out from the back door and was about to light a cigarette when he inadvertently glanced at the taxi in front of him. He happened to see Emily leaning against the window.