When I arrive in the city, it’s like my second home.
I went straight to the penthouse I own here, and now I am on my way to the grand opening party of my gallery.
Finally.
I’m really looking forward to seeing what they did with the place.
When I climb out of the car outside the wide steps leading towards the gallery entrance, I’m already impressed.
The curator has set it up so that it looks like you are walking into an Oscar ceremony. Red carpets, red rope, reporters standing on either side of the steps and men and women dressed like this is the event of the year.
I smile, but keep my head down, ignoring the camera flashes. I’ve never been one to enjoy having my face splashed across the front page.
I have arrived fashionably late, and the place is already crowded with people. High energy, good music and a very exclusive vibe are what I was hoping to see, and the curator did not disappoint.
They’ve done an incredible job setting this place up and arranging the event.
I’m more impressed than I expected to be.
“Hello, welcome to Darko Dakota Gallery.” A colorfully dressed young man greets me as I walk in the door.
“Evening.” I reply. “Can you please point out the manager for me?”
“Of course, sir, is there a problem? Is there something I might assist with?”
“Who are you?” I ask.
“My name is Killian. I am Bella’s assistant.”
“Bella?” It’s not an unusual name, but hearing it makes my heart flip. I push the flutter of nostalgia aside. I can’t be thinking about her tonight. I need to focus on this new business venture.
“Yes, sir. Bella handles all of this.” He gestures around the gallery and the event. He looks proud.
“Killian, my name is Nico Vitale. I am the owner of this gallery.”
Killian’s jaw drops open and his eyes shoot wide.
“The ow - the - oh - oh my goodness. Sir, it is such a pleasure to meet you. Please, follow me and I will find Bella straight away. I know she has been waiting for you to arrive.”
I follow him as he walks flamboyantly through the gallery, politely slipping past the guests.
“That’s her over there, sir.” He points towards a woman who has her back to me, her long blonde hair half pinned up in an intricately braided style that looks almost Viking like.
My heart stops and starts in my chest. The way she moves.
No. It can’t be.
“Bella.” Killian calls out, and she turns towards us.
I am frozen in place.
She looks even more beautiful than I remember her.
Her bright green eyes drift onto me and the smile on her face freezes half way - I can see the shock in her eyes. The tension in her breath as her chest heaves.
“Nico.” She whispers my name.
“Bella, this is Nico Vitale, theownerof the gallery.” Killian says, oblivious.