Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter 51
Kay spotted Bonnie among the crowd and rushed over before Orson could even respond to the burning question. “I’ve mastered a few of the moves you showed me, Master. I’ll demonstrate in a while.”
Bonnie gave a polite nod. “Okay.”
The crowd fell into stunned silence. Had Orson really addressed Bonnie as Master? That couldn’t be right. The room was thick with disbelief, and the whispers began to swirl.
Hadwin’s gaze shifted to Bonnie, his eyes narrowing in incredulity. What was going on here? What had they missed?
Orson, ever the composed figure, walked toward Bonnie and gave a slight bow. “It’s been a long time, Master Bonnie.”
Bonnie nodded politely in return. “I’m sorry to have troubled you.”
“It’s no trouble at all, Master Bonnie,” Orson said with a warm smile. “I’d be more than happy to paint ten pieces for you as a gift for your grandparents!”
The shock was palpable. The room was frozen in astonishment. Orson Steele—the renowned artist—had truly just referred to Bonnie as Master and offered to paint ten pieces for her? The magnitude of it was almost too much to process.
Everyone’s eyes darted to the torn remains of the painting thrown in the trash. What had they just witnessed? What did this mean?
Yolanda, in particular, stood there, her expression unreadable, but a glimmer of disbelief shone in her eyes. She had torn the painting to shreds, not realizing its true worth.
Harold, equally dumbfounded, beckoned Bonnie over once Orson and Kay were seated. “Tell me now, Bonnie. What on earth is going on here? How did you meet Master Orson?”
Bonnie, trying to maintain her composure amidst the heightened tension, began to recount the story. “Oh, it all started on a fine morning…” She gave a brief summary of the events, careful not to reveal too much.
Vera was the first to interrupt. “What? You kickbox?” Her voice was filled with disbelief.
Bonnie simply nodded. “Mm-hmm. I practiced it for a while.”
“When did you start? I’ve never heard of this!” Vera’s eyes were wide with surprise.
“I learned it from my master in the hills when I used to stay in the suburbs.”
The family was collectively stunned. They quickly jumped to the conclusion that Bonnie must have learned some basic kickboxing moves from a random old man in the suburbs. It seemed like a stretch, but perhaps by sheer coincidence, Orson also happened to be fond of kickboxing. Maybe that’s how he came to know Bonnie—impressed by her youth and her interest in the sport. It was easy for them to assume she didn’t have much skill, just a few standard moves at best.
“Why did Kay address you as her master?” Harold asked, his voice still tinged with confusion.
Bonnie answered matter-of-factly, “She wanted to learn kickboxing from me.”
The room collectively believed Bonnie had somehow convinced Kay that she was some kind of expert. After all, she was young, and there was no way she could be proficient in the martial art.
But Harold was not about to let this go. He pointed toward the trash can, where the shredded painting had once hung. “Forget about the kickboxing! I have a question for you. Did Master Orson paint that?”
Bonnie raised a brow. “Yeah. He said so himself. He painted it.”
Harold’s face turned pale, and he staggered back, almost as if he’d been struck. “Good gracious…” he muttered, struggling to catch his breath.
“Are you alright, Grandpa?” Trina immediately rushed to his side, trying to steady him. Her face, however, was filled with unease, and she quickly shifted her attention to Bonnie.
“Why would you bring such trouble upon this family?” Trina’s voice dripped with feigned concern, yet underneath it all, there was a touch of accusation. “You’ve caused such a scene. What were you thinking?”
The tension in the room was unbearable. Orson, Kay, and the rest of the guests watched the drama unfold, but it was clear that no one knew how to navigate the delicate situation. What had started as a seemingly innocent birthday celebration had turned into a whirlwind of confusion, revelations, and now, the looming question of how to salvage their dignity.