Professor Humiliates Art Student, Then Gets Humiliated By The Louvre
Previously: A condescending professor publicly destroys a young artist's work, only for her talent to be recognized by the world's most prestigious institutions, leading to his spectacular downfall.
The Unexpected Savior
Just as the weight of Professor Ross’s cruelty threatened to crush me completely, the scene was violently interrupted. The heavy, gilded double doors of the restaurant swung open with a resounding thud, admitting a wave of sophisticated energy and palpable authority. The entire room fell silent, forks frozen mid-air, as Henri Beaumont, the Chief Curator of the Louvre, strode in. Flanking him were directors from Sotheby's, their presence radiating an undeniable aura of influence and prestige.
Beaumont, a distinguished figure with a silver-fox beard and a bespoke midnight-blue tuxedo, possessed a commanding presence that immediately silenced the room. His gaze swept over the scene, landing with laser focus on Professor Ross and the ruined canvas. His voice boomed, cutting through the tension with authoritative outrage.
“Unhand that masterpiece, you ignorant, parasitic fraud!”
Professor Ross, who moments before had been reveling in his sadistic display, froze. His cruel sneer instantly contorted into a mask of dumbfounded panic. His bloodshot eyes bulged in disbelief, the color draining from his face as he realized the gravity of his actions, witnessed by figures of such immense importance.
Without missing a beat, Henri Beaumont moved with surprising speed. He bypassed the sputtering professor and rushed towards me. His gloved hands, showing a reverence I hadn't experienced in years, gently gathered the torn pieces of my canvas. Then, he turned to me, his expression softening with deep deference. He clasped my paint-smudged hand, his touch firm yet gentle.
“Mademoiselle Grace, the Louvre and Sotheby's have formed an alliance to purchase your private collection for ten million dollars cash upfront.”
The words struck me with the force of a physical blow. Ten million dollars. My entire collection. Purchased by the Louvre and Sotheby's. My professor stood beside me, his jaw hanging slack, his meticulously crafted aristocratic facade crumbling before my eyes. His hands began to shake uncontrollably, a stark contrast to the calm reverence of the curator and the auction directors surrounding me. The tables had turned, and the humiliation he so readily inflicted was now a tidal wave threatening to drown him.
”The tables had turned, and the humiliation he so readily inflicted was now a tidal wave threatening to drown him.