EUDORAWhen I walked into the rental space for my New York studio this morning, the last person I expected to see was Desmond.The studio sat at the end of a quiet street, tucked away from the city’s endless noise. It wasn’t much, just a large open space with tall windows, paint-stained floors, and the faint scent of acrylic and turpentine lingering in the air.Desmond was seated on the bench outside the entrance, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone. The moment my shadow fell over him, he looked up.Surprise flashed across his face before his lips slowly curved into a smile.“There you are.”I stared at him for a moment, unable to hide my confusion.“What are you doing here?”He slipped his phone into his pocket and stood up.Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door before stepping inside the studio.“I’ve been waiting almost an hour,” he said as he followed after me.He barely made it two steps before one of my security guards stepped into his path, blo
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