Page 70 of Painter's Obsession

“How can I help you? Is it Gabriela?” I ask, moving toward her. My voice is calm, collected—a mask of concern. “Please, sit.”

She smiles nervously and takes a seat, her movements stiff and deliberate. Her gaze darts around the office, barely landing on me.

“It’s Byron… and Gabriela,” she finally lets out in a shaky breath, her eyes locking with mine. “He’s missing, and I’m sure he’s probably dead somewhere. I don’t know—it’s just a feeling.” Her hand instinctively moves to her chest, as if clutching at some invisible tether that binds her to what’s mine.

“A feeling?” I repeat, my tone as neutral as I can manage while moving toward the cart that holds my coffee and water. The curiosity in my voice is carefully calculated.

“Yes,” she breathes. “We’ve been looking for him, but it’s all dead ends. And Gabriela…” Her voice catches, and she exhales sharply. “She’s not herself. All the grief—it’s getting to her. I think she needs you.” Her words hang in the air like a gift, and I bite the inside of my lip to suppress the smile threatening to spread. I hold back the total joy of hearing her say it.

Changing the subject quickly, I glance at her. “Would you like some water or coffee?” I ask, pouring myself a black coffee into the black mug. “Water is fine,” she murmurs.

I crouch slightly, opening the mini fridge beneath the cart. The cold air hits my face as I grab a spring water bottle, closing the door with my foot. I return to my desk, handing the bottle to her as I sip my coffee.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice small, almost fragile.

“You’re welcome,” I reply, unbuttoning the bottom of my suit jacket as I sit across from her. The leather chair creaks slightly beneath me. I take another slow sip of my coffee, savoring the moment. “So, how can I help?”

“You haven’t been by the diner,” she starts, her voice cracking slightly. “And I can’t find Byron.” She exhales deeply, her trembling fingers fumbling with the cap of her water bottle. “I honestly don’t know what to do to help her. She’s losing it.”

“All because of Byron?” I ask, leaning back slightly in my chair, my eyes narrowing in feigned concern.

Sandra dips her chin slowly, her lashes fluttering as she struggles to hold back tears. “What do you know that can help me find him? Or help her?” She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, her hands fidgeting nervously with the strap of her purse. The tension rolls off her in waves.

“There’s something Gabriela doesn’t know,” she admits, her voice trembling. “And I can’t tell her. I promised him I wouldn’t, but…” Her voice falters, the weight of her secret threatening to crush her. “But she needs help—or maybe he does. I don’t know.”

I take another measured sip of coffee, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make her uncomfortable. “Go on,” I urge softly, my tone soothing. “You have my word—no one will know.”

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as she finally speaks. “I caught Byron cheating on me… with my cousin.” The words tumble out of her, her shame palpable. Her gaze remains fixed on the bottle in her lap, avoiding mine entirely.

Inching forward, I rest a hand on the edge of my desk, feigning understanding. “It’s okay,” I say gently, my voice steady. “I won’t judge.”

She takes a shaky breath, her voice breaking as she continues. “He’s a man. I’m sure Byron is gay, or at least bi. But he hides it—he’s in complete denial. So, what if he was with a man?” Her voice cracks, her hands clutching at the bottle like it’s her lifeline. “I think he did something… or someone did something to him. I don’t know.”

Her pain is almost intoxicating, and I savor it for a moment, letting it fill the air between us. “I understand,” I say, careful to keep the excitement from creeping into my tone. “I’ll see what Ican do. Gabriela needs space. I don’t know if reaching out to her is the best course of action right now.”

Sandra nods, her movements slow, deliberate. “She’s hardheaded—just like him,” she murmurs. “But I’m sure she would appreciate having you. She likes you a lot. She still talks so highly of you. That’s why I’m here.”

Her words are music to my ears, and I lean back, placing my coffee cup down with precision. “Listen,” I say, pulling a card from the edge of my desk. “Here’s my number. If you hear anything, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’ll do my best to help in any way I can.”

Sandra stands, clutching the card like it’s a golden ticket. She offers her hand, and I take it, my grip firm yet reassuring. “Thank you,” she says, her voice soft. “I need to get back home to my daughter, but… please help her.”

I nod, flashing her a practiced, polished smile. “No need to thank me,” I say, my voice calm, almost warm. “Have a great day, and thank you for confiding in me.”

She nods once more before turning and exiting the office, the door clicking shut behind her. I wait until the silence settles before grabbing my phone. With a swipe, I open the blue app displaying the live feed from the studio. My Thorn sleeps soundly, his body curled like a broken doll.

Perfect.

Chapter Thirty Eight

Ren

After countless hours of working, negotiating, and pretending to be someone I’m not, finally, I can be me—the monster.

I watch from afar, rain streaking down the car window like silent tears. Bringing my own car was reckless, but ever since Byron came into my life, I’ve done things I’d never have dared before. He’s made me reckless, a slave to impulses I can’t control. But tonight, I’ll take back that control—with fear.

No more letting him marinate in his emotions, no more giving him time to breathe. I need to sever the cord, snuff out the light. We both cannot coexist. We are the sun and the moon.

And only one can exist in the sky. Only one can claim Byron.

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