I gazed at the oust warning on my family's art gallery, my heart sinking like a titanic in an ocean. How could this be happening? The Thompson Art Gallery had turned out to be an essence in this populace for ages . My parents had poured their energy and money into establishing this line of work, and now it was on the rim of collapsing .
I felt a hand on my elbow , and I turned to see my mother's tear- filled face. "Rory, I'm so sorry. I can't figure out what to do."
I sucked in air and tried to bolster her. "We'll figure something out, Mom. We always do."
But the veracity was, I had no plan how we were going to save the gallery. My parents had taken out a second loan on our home to keep the establishment floating, but it wasn't sufficient. The bank was threatening to impound on the property, and we were up the creek.
As I was motionless there, feeling helpless and desperate, I couldn't help but think of Elijah Blackwood. He was a billionaire businessman with a reputation for being hard - hearted and coy. I had heard gossips that he was eyeing up to invest in local businesses, but I had never thought that our gallery would be of interest to him.
And even, as I looked at the oust warning, I couldn't help but wonder if Elijah Blackwood might be our only hope.