Chapter 68

Wolfe’s POV. The applause was still ringing in my ears as I descended from the stage, the adrenaline high starting to ebb away. A few clients approached, their expressions a mix of admiration and excitement. “Wolfe, these pieces are truly your best work,” said Peter Hastings, a long-time patron. His eyes sparkled as he studied the nearest display case. “Thank you, Mr. Hastings,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the overwhelming rush of relief. Another client, Mrs. Thornton, clasped my hand with a grip that belied her petite frame. “Every piece in this collection is unique and exquisite, Wolfe. You’ve outdone yourself.” I managed a smile, nodding politely as more clients echoed similar sentiments. Their praise was a balm, soothing the lingering nerves from the earlier tension with my parents. My parents. I glanced across the room, where they were mingling with the other guests. Their presence here was unexpected, to say the least. I'd kept my distance from them ev