My Dad's Bestfriend

Chapter 243

Sienna

I sat cross-legged on the floor, spreading the black paint across the woman's face with my hand. Then, with careful precision, I added flower patterns in shades of gray and white. The contrast brought her face to life, the flowers giving it an ethereal quality. I layered the petals, smoothing them, adding depth-one layer, then another, and another.

Ruined Daisy.

The name for the piece struck me like lightning, clear and undeniable. I whispered it aloud, testing the sound of it. Yes, Ruined Daisy.

I'd been struggling to name this portrait for weeks. I'd even talked to Ryatt about it, though that conversation had gone nowhere. To be fair, Ryatt never showed much interest in my work anymore. He'd stopped coming to exhibitions entirely, though he used to attend when we first got together. Maybe he found art boring-some people did. And I couldn't really blame him for that.

As I worked, the buzz of an incoming video call pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced at the screen. Kelly's name flashed across it. A small smile tugged at my lips, and I swiped to answer with my clean hand.

"Hello, Kelly," I greeted, waving awkwardly with my left hand.

"Hi, Sisi-Bee!" Kelly chirped, her voice bubbling with energy. That was Kelly- always lively, always full of excitement. "Guess what?"

"What happened now?"

"You have to guess."

"Kelly, I'm sitting on the floor, covered in paint, with an unfinished portrait staring back at me. Trust me, I'm in the mood for anything but guessing."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Fine, you bore," she teased, before pulling something into view. Her grin widened. "I have something to show you."

"Show me, then."

She held up a sleek black cocktail dress, twirling it for the camera. It looked oddly familiar.

"I bought this to wear at your birthday party!" Kelly announced, her excitement practically glowing through the screen.

"Oh... wow," I said, though my smile faltered. I wasn't sure why, but it did. "That's great, Kelly."

"Isn't it gorgeous? It's from a designer collection!"

"Hold it up again," I said, squinting at the screen.

She obliged, bringing the dress closer. Something clicked in my memory. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I'd seen a similar dress earlier today at Maison Moderne. Still, I could have been mistaken.

"It's beautiful," I said finally. "You'll look great."

"I know," Kelly laughed, flipping her hair. "I could wear a feather and still look absolutely fucking divine."

"Yeah, right."

her phone. Kelly's expression shifted

I could say anything,

there for a moment, staring at my phone.

Ryatt's chat and sent him a quick

"Are you free?"

passed before

call you in about an

seemed so far away. But then again, I wasn't a saint either. I buried myself in my work more often than not, perhaps as

I refocused on the portrait. I worked meticulously, painting delicate wisps to make the flowers appear as though they were being blown away. The woman's hair flowed with

satisfied smile spread across my face as the piece began to come

phone rang. My heart leapt, expecting it to be Ryatt.

The caller was unknown-again.

hesitated, then answered. "Hello? Who

end sent a

a beautiful painting you've got there," the low and smooth voice sent a

Alexander.

knew that voice

at me, some dim, some lit, others completely dark. My heart raced. I couldn't tell where he was, but the idea that he was watching me

right now?" I demanded, my voice sharper than I expected, though fear twisted deep in my gut. Alexander was

he continued, ignoring my question, "and black shorts with a white crop top at night. Your paintings always have a touch of black or white. It's clear your favorite colors are black

breath caught in my

it was him

turned cold at his observation. He knew more

a sick asshole,

the sound deep and throaty a strange

he carried

a fucking. goddess when you're panting. Those beautiful locks of hair... those soft,

bite so

what a woman like

sees in Ryatt." s

fucking business, Grayson,"

the hell away from me and my life. I'm

his tone growing darker. "I'd like to touch those lips,"

gravelly voice sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine. It shouldn't have

his gaze burning into me, even from a

hyperaware of his scrutiny. The sensation