Chapter 825: Chapter 821: Mr. Lewis, do you like it?


    Richelle Dunn had no idea about the envious and jealousments in the gossip group. She happily went to pick up her three little darlings, holding the bouquet of flowers.


    As soon as the three little ones got in the car and saw the bouquet of blue roses, they exchanged knowing smiles.


    Timothy pointed at the bouquet and asked,


    “Mommy, is today some kind of anniversary for you and Daddy?”


    Richelle shook her head, “Nope!”


    Timmy pursed his lips, “Every day is an anniversary for lovers!”


    A hint of a smile appeared on his cool little face.


    Richelle couldn’t help but tug at the tuft of hair on top of his head.


    “Baby, you know quite a bit, huh!”


    Tifanny giggled and nced at Timmy, then leaned over to whisper into Richelle’s ear.<div>


    “Mommy, someone also sent Big Brother flowers today!”


    Richelle nced at Timmy amusedly and asked Tifanny, “Does only Big Brother have them?”


    Timmy clicked his tongue, “Who says so? Little brother and little sister have them too!”


    Richelle burst intoughter and kissed each of the three little ones on the face.


    “That’s right, we’re all very fortunate; we’ve all received little flowers.”


    Timothy clicked his tongue again and shook his head, putting on a grown-up air.


    “Love-struck women are such simpletons…”


    Richelle flicked her finger against his forehead.


    “Little handsome guy, don’t speak too soon; sooner orter, someone wille to put you in your ce.”


    Tifanny also spoke up in support of her mom, poking Timothy’s face with her chubby little hand.


    “That’s right, big brother, be careful! My future sister-inw will take care of you.”


    Timothy spread his hands, nonchntly saying,


    “Who knows about the future? Maybe I won’t even have a girlfriend…”


    But in his heart, he was actually thinking, being like Daddy and Mommy, wouldn’t be too bad!


    Timmy, being very smart, refused to join in on the discussion of such an unpredictable topic, simply plucking two flowers from the bouquet.


    One he pinned on Richelle’s braid, and the other on Tifanny’s ponytail.


    Richelle nced at her two sons withpletely different personalities, as well as the ever-happy and silly Tifanny, her heart brimming with warmth.


    Mother and childrenughed and yed all the way home. Richelle went to rece the vase, arranged the flowers nicely, and ced them in the bedroom.


    The three children yed with Old Brown in the backyard while she suddenly took up the painting she had been working on earlier. She brought it to Tifanny’s painting studio, spread it out on the easel, and brought the easel out onto the terrace with her brushes and tools.<div>


    As she listened to the children’sughter and yful noises in the backyard, the brush stroked across the paper.


    Quickly, the parts that she previously felt were missing were gradually filled in on the paper.


    That night, Roy Lewis returned home veryte as usual.


    Fearing waking Richelle, he took a shower in the study’s bathroom first before tiptoeing up the stairs to the bedroom.<div>


    The bedroom had only a dim yellow nightlight on, clearly indicating that Richelle was already asleep.


    Roy carefully approached the bed and saw the easel Tifanny used, standing next to it.


    Curiously, he walked over and saw a portrait of a deep-eyed, handsome man on the easel, which should be him!


    He turned on the small light on the easel and began to carefully appreciate the painting of himself.


    Roy suppressed the ecstasy in his heart, and for a moment, he thought this painting was drawn by Tifanny.


    Although he didn’t know anything about painting, he knew that Tifanny’s paintings always had a childlike charm and rich imagination, and were always full of vitality and hope.


    But the portrait in front of him was done in a realistic style, an incredibly handsome man. The deep eyes seemed gentle and affectionate, as if gazing at someone.


    A preposterous idea suddenly shed through his mind.


    Because the only person he would look at with such eyes was – the sleeping Richelle!


    Which means, this painting was drawn from Richelle’s point of view.


    Roy’s heart leaped with joy, noticing the rough but legible signature in the lower right corner of the painting.


    Upon closer inspection, it appeared to read, “Tailfish.”


    Looking more closely, it was indeed so.<div>


    Tailfish?


    Roy remembered that in Old Brown’s art gallery, there had been a few paintings he had found captivating.


    And the author of those paintings had the same name, “Tailfish”!


    So, was Richelle that Tailfish?


    Or, had she asked that painter called Tailfish to paint this portrait for him?


    Putting both possibilities together, Roy’s intuition led him to choose the former.


    Although it was a bit far-fetched, he had grown ustomed to Richelle always surprising him.


    So at that moment, he believed that Richelle was giving him a surprise.


    As he admired the painting on the easel, the bed behind him stirred slightly.


    Roy pretended not to notice and continued to face away from the bed, studying his own “glorious beauty” in the painting.


    Suddenly, slender arms encircled his neck, and a familiar scent wafted from behind. A soft body pressed against his back, and azy, seductive voice sounded in his ear.


    “Mr. Lewis, do you like it?”


    <div>