Page 68 of Bared Betrayal
A moment passes, and as if he can sense just how fucking desperate I am, he nods, stands, and walks over to open his office door.
“Dr. Trudeaux, thank you for joining us.”
A slender woman in a professional yet stylish suit walks in with her lips pursed, glasses high up on the bridge of her nose.
I get up from my seat and walk over, extending a hand. “Doctor, my name is Gabriel King.”
“Why am I here with you, Mr. King?”
“Kallie Sawyer is one of your patients.” It’s not a question, and she doesn’t answer it as such. In fact, she doesn’t respond at all.
Oh, this is going to be fun.
I slip my hands into my pants pockets. “I need to know what happened to her, and you’re going to tell me.”
Nineteen
KALLIE
Gabriel was right.The concierge was happy to get whatever I needed and charge it to his expense account. And turns out, the concierge is an artist at heart just like I am and practically beamed when I asked him if he could order some paint and canvas. I’ll pay Gabriel back, of course, but once he left me in this massive suite, I felt so inspired and couldn’t let the moment pass.
The suite Gabriel arranged for me is lovely. The walls are adorned with fancy gilded mirrors and the windows draped in ivory curtains. Patterned rugs lay across the floor and feel like plush cushions beneath my feet. The bedroom has two mirrored doors that open to a grand bathroom where towels and robes lay waiting for me by the white marble bathtub. Carved furniture completes the look of elegance in the sitting area. Though this suite isn’t as large or extravagant as Gabriel’s own, it’s far more than one person needs.
When I find the study, I already know I’m going to turn it into a makeshift studio.
The natural light coming through the window is absolutely perfect, and after rearranging a few things, I set up the new easel. I’m also definitely keeping the supplies they bought since it’s so much better than what I have at home, even nicer than the ones Sebastian bought me for my birthday.
I spend most of the day painting, my brush darting across the canvas like a hummingbird. The work is some of the best I have ever done. The strokes of the brush flow out and create a scene that is unlike anything I have created before - a patchwork of shimmers and shadows, dappled with vibrant hues that swirl like leaves in a whirlwind. I lose myself in my art, not noticing several hours have passed until I look up at the muted sunset creeping over the skyline through the window. The horizon is painted with brilliant oranges, pinks, and purples like fire licking at the sky. My fingertips ache from gripping the brush for so long, but the pain is nothing compared to the satisfaction and joy I feel seeing my creation come to life right before my eyes.
After turning on the lights in the room, I stand back and look at my work, wondering why it feels so different.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts when I hear the lock on the hotel door beep and the door opens. My stomach flips, electricity dancing across my skin, knowing it’s Gabriel. It’s when I reach the bedroom door that I realize I’ve never felt this way about Sebastian, never experienced these currents of excitement whenever I’m about to see him. It’s cold, but it’s true. Everything I feel when I’m with Gabriel is foreign to me, yet it feels…right.
I rush with my bare feet across the floor, my body already anticipating the thrill only he can give me.
“I thought you weren’t coming back,” I say as I round the corner and into the foyer but come to a complete stop when I see him. He looks different, his sleeves rolled up mid-arm, his collar open and tie hanging loosely down his shoulders. And his hair, it’s disheveled as if he’s dragged his fingers through it a hundred times. But it’s when I look into his eyes, his expression pained, that my world stops. “No,” I breathe.
He moves toward me. “Kallie.”
“Don’t,” I snap, taking a step back.
“I’m sorry.”
“No!” I cry out, my insides filled with concrete. “No. You don’t get to be sorry.”
He paces a few steps, rubbing the back of the neck, and all I can think about is…he knows. Gabriel knows everything. “How?” My voice shakes.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.”
“Kallie, listen to me—”
“No! You had no right, Gabriel. You had no fucking right!” My screams slam against the ceiling, my anger, my shame, my fucking guilt ricocheting off the walls.
“Baby.” He tries reaching for me, but I step away.
“This is why I didn’t want you to know. The way you’re looking at me right now with…with pity in your eyes.”
