Page 37 of Painted in Sin

"Hardly," he says, sliding out of bed. He leaves the covers intact over my body and puts on his boxers. Then he fishes a pocket knife out of his bedside drawer and struts over to the canvas, which he slices away from the frame. I wince at the act and cover my mouth, and he notices. "It's forged… Right?" His eyebrows tick up a notch, and I swallow hard before nodding at him.

"I'm sorry," I squeak, but he is too busy using the tip of his knife to pry the frame apart.

It hurts like hell, but I push myself up off the mattress and clutch the sheet around my body as I walk toward him. He's so focused, determination etched on his features, and he hardly notices me standing next to him as the sections of wood fall apart revealing diamonds encased in resin in a hollow inside the frame. Millions of dollars’ worth.

"Oh, my God," I breathe, barely believing what I'm seeing. I knew the legend and I've heard many people say it's true, but seeing them with my own eyes is shocking.

"The best part is, the way they're lined up points us directly at the location of the documents I need to find." Victor pulls the resin casing out of the frame and holds it up to the light. One clearly visible pink diamond, very rare and serving a distinct point in this arrangement, catches the light. "And I’m going to change history…"

"How?" I lean in and marvel at the sheer number of sparkling gems.

"Exoneration… The crimes attributed to my lineage are false claims, and this will prove it. And the wealth of these stones will assure both of us a future we can be proud of." He wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead hard, and I smile. It's physically painful, but joy outweighs the ache.

I believe Victor really wants this, and I believe he will see it through too.

30

VICTOR

My release floods Isabella as my lips claim hers. The morning sun shines down on the pillow where her hair is splayed around her face and her head rests, eyes gazing up at me. My hips pump into her, and I feel each tiny pulse of her core around me as her orgasm unravels. She's gorgeous. Intoxicating.

"Mmm, wow," she moans, draping her arms around me greedily as I roll to the side and pull out. She rolls with me and stretches out across my chest as my arms come around her. "Do I get to wake up to this every morning now?"

Her smile steals my breath, but I'd gladly give it to her every day for the rest of my life. I reach up and brush her hair off her cheek, then cradle her against my body.

"I think it could be arranged… But we can't linger this morning." As much as I want to stay in this bed with her all day making love, we have some things to finish up. My father is waiting downstairs. I heard him arrive only moments ago, and he will expect answers from me about the painting and everything that'stranspired. I'm sure by now, he's heard about the coverup Rocco has set in motion surrounding the car accident and shooting.

"Aww, well it's a shame we can't. I'd have gladly done that again and again." Isabella's fingers walk across my bicep and she grins at me, propping her chin on my chest to meet my gaze.

"As would I." Having her in my arms is the real prize out of all of this, not the diamonds or the documents they'll lead me to. When I targeted her at the gallery, she was nothing more than a tool to provide a service, just as my father still sees her. But everything changed, and I don't think I want to do this without her. "Bella, before we go…"

"He wants the painting?" she asks, and I sigh.

"He doesn't care about the painting, but I do want it back. We can talk about that later. Right now, I need you to agree with me that those diamonds, when they've served their purpose for my father and we have the proof in our hands that we need…" I search her eyes, and it's like she reads my mind. The connection we have goes beyond knowledge to a frequency we're both living within.

"They'll help us build something real and lasting, something that will inspire and educate future generations…" Every syllable her lips form only cement in my mind more firmly that we were made for each other.

"And we'll destroy anything that will bring harm to anyone." I squeeze her harder and feel the release of weight off my chest. Years of searching for answers and a way out have come to this, and now we will forge a new path forward. It won't be easy, and it won't be instantaneous, but it will happen. And it will last.

"We should go downstairs," I tell her, "or he will come up here, and I'd rather not share your sexy body like that." I nudge her, and she rises to a seated position.

Her body is covered in bruises from the accident, but her soul seems to be healing. I slip out of bed and take a pair of boxers and dress. She heads for a shower as I send a text to my maid that we need the clothing procured for Isabella while we slept. I leave the bedroom when I'm presentable and meet the maid on her way up to deliver Isabella's new clothing.

In the living room, my father sits in a leather armchair smoking a cigar with a scowl on his face as he waits, and I carry what he has been waiting for. His eyebrows lift and he quickly sets the cigar in the nearby ashtray and rises.

"You have them." He moves toward me quickly, reaching for the resin-coated diamonds as he walks. I can see the relief in his eyes—the same sensation I experienced only moments ago as I spoke with Isabella.

"And we know where the documents are. We just have to plan a time to retrieve them." It brings me great pleasure to give these things to him and know he is seeing the realization of something he has worked so hard for his entire life. A softer man would cry tears of joy, but my father merely slaps my shoulder and nods at me.

"Well done, Son." I swear I see his eyes mist up, but a noise across the room catches my attention and I turn with him to see Isabella, dressed in a dark red, wrap-around dress, with her hair braided across one shoulder. Her feet are bare, and her eyes sparkle with affection.

"I'm not interrupting?" She tiptoes into the room toward me, and I extend my arm to welcome her.

"Not at all, I was just telling my father we have secured the painting and its secrets and it’s all thanks to your work." Hugging her tightly against my side, I press a kiss to her forehead as she smiles and splays a hand on my chest. My father eyes us for a moment before turning his full attention on the diamonds.

"I assume the frame has been destroyed…" He sounds curt, cold even. "When will I have the painting?" His eyes rise again to lock on Isabella, but I don’t back away. He may not understand this connection yet, but he will and he will accept it for what it is.

"It will be reframed and in your hands this evening, Papà." My response doesn't move him. He stares at Isabella expectantly, but she doesn't hesitate to respond too.

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