The Billionaire's Canvas of Secret

I snuck back into my room after climbing through the attic window, feeling dejected. 

I yanked the dark hoodie off my head, allowing my dark trellises to fall to my shoulders, and I sat on my bed, holding the fragments of my precious artwork against my chest. 

I pushed back angry tears, hating the fact that my emotions were all over the place. 

Get a grip, Calliope! I chided myself. 

Tonight had turned out horrible. My plan had failed woefully. Why did I have to be such a klutz?

I had been sure my collection of precious paintings and abstract sketches would grab people's attention right from the entrance, making them spellbound. 

I had even estimated the amount of cool cash I would earn in exchange for my masterpiece which had cost me grueling hours of secrecy. 

But no, things just had to go downhill. At least, I was lucky the guards didn't kick me out. I had a sinking feeling that handsome man had settled them, because how else would I not have paid for damages?

Everything from a few hours ago came back in vivid detail. 

I, Dianne and Kyle had met at our usual meeting point and after our usual chants of affirmation, we bundled our pieces of artwork and headed for the art exhibition held in the most elite region of Louisiana. 

We split up so our odd bunch wouldn't be quickly spotted by the guards. 

I had come well prepared for that night. If things turned out well, I would become a star within the hour. I had been preparing for this moment since forever. 

The Grand Art Hall was breathtaking both inside and outside. I got a glimpse of the majestic interior as I scouted the entrance with hawk eyes.

I quickly entered the nearest alley and, after making sure that no one was nearby, I shrugged off my hoodie overall. 

Beneath my bland facade was my fanciest dress. It was a dark wine jumpsuit and my shiny black heels. 

Though it was cheap, I wore this ensemble with pride. 

"For you, Mom," I had said in a whisper into the semi-darkness, "I'll make you proud."

With my eyes darting around, I slipped past the guards and casually walked in with my large portfolio bag handy, trying my best to blend in. 

As I walked awestruck by the insane amount of beauty that surrounded me, I didn't notice that I had wandered away from my normal lane until I bumped into someone. 

I honestly didn't see when she was coming. Neither did she. I noticed she had been engrossed in her screen before we collided, so it wasn't entirely my fault. 

"What the —" she cussed. I winced as I rubbed the spot my shin had hit the floor when I fell. 

The lady in red highlights in her makeup and dress glared at me. She glanced at her shattered phone in dismay. 

"You're going to pay for that!" she seethed. 

I wilted. Geez. That looked like the newest version of the iPhone. Not that I had ever had the chance to come close to one before. 

"I'm very sorry," I mumbled. "It was an accident."

She didn't listen. Instead, in a fit of rage she snatched my file bag and began to pull out my work. 

"Hey," I tried to protest. 

"Oh, I see you're an artist. An amateur by the looks of it." Her tone didn't hold admiration, but rather venom. 

Before I could blink, she tossed them to the floor and stamped them with her heels, puncturing my babies in multiple places. 

"No!" I gasped and stood for a moment in shock and horror.

"There. That's my collateral, you cheap loser!"

My blood boiled. 

I was about to retaliate by decorating her cheek with the lines of my fingers—Yeah, and probably ending up in jail for assault—when a strong hand grabbed mine. 

"You don't want to do that," a masculine voice said into my ear.

His voice was deep and monotonous and he carried an air of intrigue about him. I looked into his eyes and was greeted by the sight of two breathtaking deep brown eyes.

His scent was woody, like an expensive perfume. He oozed class and sophistication. 

I couldn't find words. I just stared, slowly drowning in his intense gaze. A sensation I couldn't place course through my spine. Why were my heart and lungs no longer functioning?

He turned to the raving bull of a lady who had massacred my sweat and blood and said to her, "You okay?"

"I'm fine, luv! This nitwit obviously doesn't belong here. Urgh! My dress is ruined. Let's go."

The vile lady sauntered out, swaying her hips in a catwalk.  

The man didn't say anything more to me, he just looked into my eyes as if to communicate a sort of apology and then he left, going in the same direction as the lady. 

Immediately he left my side, I suddenly felt cold and bare. I glanced around and saw a few people staring at me with an inscrutable expression. I looked at my destroyed artwork and felt bile rise in my throat. 

Silently, I bent and began picking up what was left. 

I hurried out of the place, hot tears burning in my eyes. 

Now, as I wept alone in my room, I wondered what had pushed me to risk that nonsense. I wondered if Dianne and Kyle had witnessed the whole humiliating scene too.

Suddenly, I heard a knock on my door. I jolted and quickly shoved my artwork under my bed. I covered myself with my blanket and pretended to be asleep. 

"Calliope? Are you still up?" said the voice. It was Evelyn, my stepmom. 

"You must come downstairs at once. It's important," she persisted as she opened my room's door. 

I feigned drowsiness and took my time getting up.

"Your father is calling you. Make yourself at least presentable and be out in a minute." Her deadpan expression was unreadable. 

I rolled my eyes and followed her. When we got downstairs, I was shocked to see that everywhere was brightly lit. I checked the time. It was 11:39 pm. Dad was in his wheelchair, looking proud as I approached the little gathering. 

"Here she comes," Dad said. 

There were two unfamiliar men seated opposite my dad. An elderly man and a much younger man. Visitors? At this hour of the night? Something smelt fishy here. 

Wait. Wasn't this the same guy from the Art Exhibition?

His dark, steady gaze caught my eyes and I froze. My heart began a stupid race for dear life. 

I couldn't tell if it was because of how hot he looked even with his expressionless face or if it was because my worst nightmare was about to become a reality. 

Oh, no! My wild art rendezvous was exposed!