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Chapter 48 – The Interview
Last Updated:
2025-10-08 21:11:04
Latest chapter
Brushstrokes of the unseen Chapter 49 – Fractures in the Frame
The sun rose quietly over the city, washing the skyline in a soft, golden hue — the kind of morning that should’ve felt peaceful.But peace was the one thing Sophia Bennett didn’t have anymore.Her phone had been ringing since 6 a.m.Missed calls. Messages. Mentions. Notifications stacking up like dominoes waiting to fall.She sat on the edge of her bed, hair unbrushed, still wearing yesterday’s silk blouse. The television on the wall played a muted morning show — her interview replaying on loop. The headline running beneath it made her stomach twist.“Tech CEO’s Emotional Confession Goes Viral.”They were dissecting her every word — the tremor in her voice, the half-smile when she’d said someone had changed the way she saw the world.Sophia pressed her palms against her face, exhaling hard. The walls of her penthouse felt smaller than usual. Her world — the one she’d built on precision and control — was starting to crack.
Brushstrokes of the unseen Chapter 48 – The Interview
The city was already awake when Sophia stepped out of the car — too awake.Flashes blinded her before her heels even touched the pavement. Reporters swarmed like hungry birds, their questions sharp, their voices merging into a single roar that made her pulse race.“Ms. Bennett! Is it true you and Alex Rivera are romantically involved?”“Did the museum board suspend you?”“Was last night a confession?”She kept her face still — unreadable, untouchable — even as her throat tightened. Her manager’s hand pressed against her back, steering her through the chaos, but Sophia could feel the words sticking to her skin, burning.Inside the building, silence hit like a wave.She leaned against the wall of the lobby, inhaling deeply, the scent of rain and fresh paint mixing with the metallic tang of nerves.She thought of Alex. Of the way his voice had steadied her last night.And of how it might all fall apart today.Alex stood by the
Brushstrokes of the unseen Chapter Forty-Seven: The Weight of Morning
By noon, the studio no longer felt like sanctuary.It was too bright, too honest.The light poured through the tall windows, revealing everything — the scattered brushes, the half-finished mural, the trail of discarded paint-streaked cloth from the night before. Sophia stood barefoot by the easel, her hair tied up loosely, wearing one of Alex’s shirts that hung too big on her frame.Alex watched her from the doorway, coffee in hand, looking more uncertain than she’d ever seen him.Neither had said much since waking.Every silence between them felt alive — not uncomfortable but loaded. They were standing on the other side of something they couldn’t name yet. A threshold that couldn’t be crossed back.Sophia picked up a brush and dipped it in white paint, dragging a slow stroke across the canvas. Her movements were automatic — like she was painting to stop herself from thinking.Alex stepped closer. “You don’t have to work right now,” he said gently.She didn’t look up. “If I don’t, I’l
Brushstrokes of the unseen Chapter Forty-Six: What Comes After Truth
The world felt fragile the next morning — like something sacred had been spoken into existence, and now the air dared not move too loudly.Sophia woke before dawn. The light hadn’t yet found its way through the blinds, but she could hear the faint hum of the city below. Beside her, Alex was still asleep, one arm resting loosely across her waist, his breathing deep and steady.For a moment, she simply looked at him. The sharp edges of who he was — the guarded artist, the man who never said too much — were softened in sleep. He looked almost young, unburdened. And in that stillness, something inside her ached.Because she knew.Truth didn’t fix everything. It only revealed what you could no longer ignore.She slipped out of bed quietly, the floor cool beneath her bare feet. She gathered her clothes, her hairbrush, the scattered fragments of the night, and moved to the kitchen. The smell of paint still lingered faintly on his hands — she’d n
Brushstrokes of the unseen Chapter 45: The Morning After Part 2
The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with something that felt fragile and inevitable all at once. Neither of them spoke; words would have felt clumsy, too small for what their bodies already knew.Alex’s fingers traced the delicate strap on her shoulder, sliding it down with a reverence that made Sophia’s breath catch. It wasn’t lust alone that burned in his eyes—it was devotion, a quiet kind of wonder.He pressed another kiss to the skin he’d uncovered, then let his hand wander lower, easing the fabric further until it fell away completely. Sophia’s cheeks flushed, but not from shame; it was the weight of being seen, truly seen. No mask of CEO composure, no armour of ambition—just Sophia, vulnerable and unguarded.Her hands explored him in turn, skimming over the hard lines of his chest, the warmth of his skin. She felt the subtle tremor beneath his steadiness, and it broke something open in her—he wasn’t untouchable, not at all. He w
Brushstrokes of the unseen Chapter 45: The Morning After Part 1
The first thing Sophia noticed was the light.It crept through the curtains in thin, golden threads, spilling across the floor, reaching for the tangled sheets where she lay. Her eyes blinked open slowly, her body aching in ways that were both unfamiliar and unforgettable. For a brief, fleeting second, she forgot where she was.Then she shifted, and the warmth of Alex at her side anchored her to the truth.He was still asleep, one arm draped loosely across her waist, his breathing steady, his face softened in a way she had never seen while he was awake. In sleep, he looked younger, unburdened, almost vulnerable.Sophia’s chest tightened at the sight.The night before replayed in flashes—the heat of his mouth, the weight of his body against hers, the way he had whispered her name like it was the only word he knew. A shiver ran through her, equal parts memory and fear.She should have felt regret. She should have felt panic at
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