Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start novel Chapter 407

Jordan Smith didn’t answer Sandra Taylor right away. Instead, he glanced at Camila Davis, curious to see how she’d react.

He thought, *If Camila just eases up a little, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let Lillian have this painting.*

But to his disappointment, Camila’s face was set in stone—no sign of backing down or asking for help.

Jordan felt his irritation flare. His jaw tightened as he said, “Alright, then Daniel can have this one. Lillian, you can look for something else.”

Lillian heard him. Her lips pressed into a thin line, long lashes dropping as she tried to hide just how upset and disappointed she was.

Camila’s expression darkened. She’d known Jordan wouldn’t take Lillian’s side—she never expected him to, really. But seeing it play out again, right in front of her daughter, made her heart ache.

Camila let out a cold, bitter laugh. “Why? I called the gallery staff first. If it weren’t for you lot, I’d already be paying for the painting. If we’re talking about who got here first, it was us.”

Sandra, meanwhile, was feeling pretty smug. Especially with Jordan standing squarely in her corner—she couldn’t hide her satisfaction as she turned to Camila, all fake reasonableness.

“Camila,” she said, “Daniel spoke up first. He’s just a kid—can’t you let him have it? He just won an award last week, it means a lot to him. Jordan and I both think it’s important for his development…”

Camila’s tone was icy. The whole thing struck her as almost laughable.

Back when Lillian wanted to learn to paint, Jordan had always looked down his nose at her—never supportive, always dismissive. But now, here he was, ready to drop thousands of dollars in front of Lillian just to buy a painting for someone else’s child.

Camila clenched her teeth, then suddenly smiled and said, “Jordan Smith, do you get it now? This is exactly why Lillian never wants to see you.”

The words hit home. Jordan blinked, glancing at Lillian.

Her eyes were red, her posture small and sad, but she didn’t beg or whine like Daniel. She just stood there, quietly hurt.

Something twisted in Jordan’s chest. For a second, he really saw her.

Then Daniel wrapped himself around his leg, looking miserable. “Dad, maybe… maybe I shouldn’t take the painting. Let Lillian have it. I shouldn’t have said I wanted it first.”

Jordan stared at his son’s guilty face, momentarily at a loss for words.

Camila watched, feeling sick. The kid was just like his mother—born to play the victim.

She had no patience for the act. Instead, she signaled to the gallery assistant, “Could you please take this painting down for me? I’ll buy it.”

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