Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Mikaela:

I sat at the edge of the bed, looking at my face in the mirror that stood across the room.

Just as I was about to lay back down, I heard a knock on the door.

“Kevin?” I called.

“Yeah, it's me.”

“Sure. You can come in!” I invited and waited for him to enter but he didn't. “Is there anything wrong?” Worry etched on my face.

“No actually. I actually wanted to show you something. Can you come?”

“Alright. Just a sec.” I got up immediately, my toes curling at the cold temperature of the floors.

I headed towards the door and swung the door open. His face lit up immediately when he saw me. I stepped outside, shutting the door behind me.

“I hope you enjoyed dinner?” He asked, his eyes as huge as saucers.

Honestly, he wasn't the best cook, but it was okay.

I didn't want to be a killjoy.

At least he put in some effort to impress me and that alone was enough.

I grinned. “Come on, it was great!”

He let out a sigh, scratching the back of his neck— an habit I noticed.

“Come.” He gestured, heading down the passage.

I could tell we were going towards his room.

I went with him, and he shut the door behind us.

He walked to the nightstand and grabbed the painting placed on it.

“Look.” He gestured at the painting, turning it to me.

I took it from him, smiling at the pretty butterfly painted on the canvas.

“It's pretty, isn't it?” He asked.

But wasn't it weird that he called me all the way here to show me a painting? Or was the painting something he cared that much about.

“It is.” I nodded.

“Yeah, you gave me that in highschool.”

My eyes widened.

I painted this masterpiece?

Oh damn. I must have been so fucking talented. Girl, I'm proud of myself.

A smile from nowhere appeared in my face.

I walked towards the bed, lowering my body to sit. He sat beside me.

“I was really good at painting, huh?”

“Yes, you were gifted.”

I sighed. “I get it. But why did you have to show this to me tonight?”

Finally, I let out that question pricking me deep down.

He didn't say anything.

Maybe I shouldn't have asked that. What if he was just showing he cared? But here I was, asking him in the face why he was showing me something I didn't ask for.

That's isn't very nice of you, Mikaela, is it?

“Because I own an art conglomerate.” He answered.

“It makes sense to me now.”

Oh, shit.

I just told him he had not been making any sense.

He chuckled. “Well, I know how we can turn this gift of yours into money and fame for you.”

Now that's interesting.

I crossed my legs.

“Because you own an art conglomerate, right? And then you sell my paintings to your bidders?”

“You get it, but my conglomerate keeps twenty five percent on each sale for the promotion expenses and all that.”

“Fair enough. But I just don't think I can do this. I mean look at this impressive painting. Can I do this?” I laughed.

Unfortunately, he didn't get the joke. Tough crowd.

“Don't worry. Just get some rest. Tomorrow, you should try painting something. I have the tools ready. I believe in you.”

—

I held the brush hovering over the canvas, my wrist shaking.

I didn't want to flop this.

I hadn't even attempted yet.

Kevin left me to have some space to paint but all I had been doing for over an hour was basically staring at a white canvas and being scared to ruin it.

I wasn't sure if I was holding the right brush size. If I was holding it how it should be held. If I was using the right color. If I was using the right shade. If I was heading for the right stroke. If my hand was positioned well.

There was so many ways to fail at this.

I let out a sigh.

Again. Again. Again. Again. And again, I couldn't paint!!

I tried to paint. I just didn't attempt.

I didn't attempt putting a stroke on the canvas.

I shook my head, dropping the brush to the floor, the rattling sound echoing in the room. I gently placed the color palette down on the stool before turning away and leaving the room.

Yeah, I couldn't give up, not when Kevin put a hundred percent hope on me, assuming I would be as talented as I was before.

Oh, give me a break.

My skills vanished. Somehow. Probably because I lost my memory. I lost my skills as well.

Pfft-

I bounced down the stairs, my footsteps reverberating.

“I understand you have always been my highest bidder but you should also understand the demand, and that's why the price seems to rise ridiculously every single day.” I heard Kevin arguing with some man he was having a meeting with.

“Just so you know, I’m not buying this because I need to. My family’s connected to one of the top suppliers on the continent. I’m only getting yours because you actually sell to individual customers, not just retailers or wholesalers.” The man shot back.

Silence took over for a minute before Kevin responded.

“Alright, fine then.”

I stepped into the living room, staring at the two men backing me as they say on the couch, facing the TV.

“Which one do you want?” Kevin grabbed the remote, turning down the TV volume.

The man’s neck tilted back to look at me, and I assumed he noticed my presence.

I flashed him a casual smile, expecting him to turn back, but he kept staring for longer than he should, his eyes lingering on my body.

Oh. Fucker. Mind your own business before I throw my flip flops at your face.

Kevin tilted his head to see what the man was looking at.

“Her. I want her.”