Page 30 of The Bratva's Forbidden Pregnancy

“Fascinating,” he said. “I should have known, considering how captivated you were by ‘Whispers in the Dark’ during the gallery opening.”

I laughed lightly. “It was like the painting was calling out to me.”

“Yeah, me, too. I like to see myself as an art enthusiast.”

“I think you are an art enthusiast.”

He chuckled, taking a careful turn down a street. “What makes you so sure?”

“Well, only an enthusiast would be drawn to Nightingale’s ‘Whispers in the Dark,’” I replied. “Plus, you did talk about the portrait being inspired by Degas’ ‘Echoes of the Night.’ Only an art enthusiast would know that.”

“Impressive. You’re very observant,” he noted. “I find impressionist art quite relatable. In fact, I am so fascinated by it that I have some collections back at my place.”

“No way! Shut the front door!” I let out a squeal of delight, my eyes widening in a mix of excitement and surprise. “Which do you have?”

“A few, like Monet’s ‘Water Lilies….’”

“1921?”

“1919, actually,” he corrected with a smile.

My heart was filled with joy, practically beating out of my chest. All I could manage was, “Cool.”

“I also have Cassatt’s ‘Little Girl in a Blue Armchair,’ Degas’ ‘Dancers at the Bar,’ and, I think, Pissarro’s ‘Red Roofs.’ I don't know for sure, but I think it’s there.”

I was officially blown away; my mouth wouldn’t shut, and my brows remained raised. A thrill ran through me like a rollercoaster rush, and my heart swelled.

“For people who think we’re very different, we sure have a lot in common,” I said. “I want to see them—the collection.” The words had burst out of me without my permission.

I honestly thought that I’d said that in my mind. I hadn’t planned to say them aloud, not yet, at least. But I was really looking forward to seeing those pieces. He’d piqued my interest. Now, all I wanted to do was set eyes on those paintings.

“Can I see them, please?” I repeated.

He squinted at me, lips pursed. “Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“You do remember where I said I have the collection, am I right?”

I nodded again. “Yes.”

I was basically asking him to take me to his place. It wasn’t a good idea, but I couldn’t help it.

He watched me for a moment before finally budging. “Alright,” he conceded, right before he hit the brakes and turned the car around.

Are you really sure about this? Mom and Dad would freak out if they knew what you’re doing right now.

I ignored the voice in my head, channeling my thoughts to the art pieces that I’d see at his place.

Only the art pieces…that’s all you wanna see?

Sia, this is a bad idea, said my voice of reason. You’re attracted to this man. Going to his place at this time of night will not end well. Turn back now that you have the chance.

She’s definitely going to get laid, the other voice said.

Quiet, you two! I said to them.

He drove through the gates to his mansion, and he pulled over by the entrance. We both stepped out of the car under the cold and distant stars, the home towering over us like a mausoleum, all white marble and gilded classical architecture.

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