Her Story
I stormed after him.
When I passed through the entrance on the roof, which was large and well decorated as it was the main one, there was a large gallery before me. The walls were a black-blue color. And they were adorned with masterpieces. I gaped at all the beauty gathered there. Portraits, sculptures, bas-reliefs, so many different types of classical paintings. Scenes of war and love, engraved in stone o painted on canvas. It was like a personal museum. Yet, its intimate flaw, indicate that they were collected by the owner for their uniqueness, for their emotion and beauty rather than for show. And I highly doubted that Damon has so many visitors.
Talking about the devil. I caught a faint
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