AYALA POVThe sound came just as I stepped back from the canvas to evaluate the color balance—three soft knocks on the studio door. Not forceful. Not hesitant. Just… measured.My heart jumped.I wiped my hands on a paint-stained rag, my pulse already quickening. Part of me whispered Vladimir. But it was too soon, wasn’t it?I crossed the room slowly, peeking through the window first.It wasn’t him.A man stood on the stoop. Mid-thirties, maybe older, in a sharply cut gray coat and dark trousers. His hair was cleanly trimmed, his jawline angular. Hands behind his back like he’d been waiting a while.And he wasn’t alone.Behind him, parked across the street, was a black town car. Not flashy. Just… expensive in the way quiet power always was.I opened the door a crack.“Can I help you?”The man nodded politely, his voice low and smooth. “Miss Shomer?”“Yes,” I said cautiously.“I represent the foundation that awarded your grant. I was asked to deliver a personal letter—along with a few c
Last Updated : 2025-06-23 Read more