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CHAPTER ONE
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2024-11-22 18:09:49I pushed open the brown wooden door and stepped into my studio, a sense of excitement rushed all over my body as I was eager to start work on the next painting.
I shut the door right after me with my left hand while holding a cup of coffee on my right. Setting the cup of my coffee down on the table filled with different sketches of paintings, paint brushes, and some disorganized books about painting, I reached out my handbag and hung it on the bag holder by the wall.
A number of finished paintings lay on the wall by the floor and a couple more hung on the wall. A few were finished, a few unfinished and a few were client's orders to be picked up. I always made my paintings from scratch and my mind and never copied anyone’s work no matter the amount a client was willing to pay.
I pulled off my trench coat, leaving my black shirt and a pair of deep blue jeans on a pair of boots on and pulled a stool closer to an empty canvas I had already set and sat. I took a sip of the coffee and picked up my brush, slapping against the white canvas gently, my strokes flowed.
It was evening and one of my client came over to the studio to pick up her art herself as she was skeptical about it being delivered.
“ I am sorry, I got a little bit delayed at the meeting” she said
“ No that's alright, I figured you'd have called me if you wouldn't be able to come today” I replied
“ So where is my priceless artwork?” she asked
I moved over to where I kept some already packed paintings and picked out her painting named “Estranged heart”. It was a painting of a wilted rose that seemingly looked like a heart.
“This is really a masterpiece Lexi!!” she exclaimed as she saw it
“ I am glad you like your painting Mrs Shelby” I said with a smile
“Like seems to be an understatement, I love this painting” she said and tapped me on the shoulder.
“ Thank you Mrs Shelby ” I said with a smile again
“Victor, come put this in the car will you?” she beckoned on her driver as he came in and carried the painting out of my studio.
Mrs Shelby was about to leave my studio when she turned around
“ You don't have a man in your life do you? I think this is the point in your life where you should have someone to go back home to dont you think? She asked
“ I am glad you're concerned about that Mrs Shelby but I don't think I want to have that for now” I replied
“ One blind date wouldn't hurt would it? I have a perfect candidate in mind” she said
“ I will think about that Mrs Shelby” I said with a smile
“Please do my dear” she said this and left my studio.
It was time and I was ready to close up for the day, this was my daily routine but this time around, I needed to stop by the store to get some groceries as I had ran out of them at home.
I picked up my handbag and stuffed some books from the table into them and picked up my trench coat and wore it.
After slightly bumping into cans of oil paint stacked right by the foot of the table and a jar of brushes that I remembered I kept down by the table, I decided to move these things so I don't bump into them again.
It was getting late and I needed to get my groceries. I carried my handbag and stepped out of my studio and as I shut the door behind me, my eyes fell on the next store opposite mine, they sold flowers and I remembered how my foster mum would always get me flowers each time she came home from a trip and constantly I hoped someone would get me flowers.
The grocery store wasn't that far off from my studio so I decided to take a walk instead of driving my compact car. Unknown to me, I was being tailed by a black sedan just on the other side of the road, I didn't think a simple woman and artist like me would be tailed. I got to the store and got the things I needed and it was all packed in a brown paper bag and found my way back to my car at the studio, still oblivious of the black sedan tailing me.
I put the paper bag and my handbag at the back seat and drove all the way home. Today felt a lot different from other days and I couldn't figure out why but anyways, its just been me all these years.
My apartment was located a little bit away from the main town and I did this cause I needed my solitude as an artist. Parking in front of my house I got off the car and grabbing my bag of groceries and my handbag, I headed towards the main door.
It took me a while before I could find my keys in my pocket and at last I found it and opened the door to my house. I shut the door and hogging my bag and the paper bag to my chest, I walked and reached for the light switch and switching it on I saw a manly figure up ahead, standing right in front of my tv.
My heart jumped and skipped a beat and the bags I was holding to my chest dropped to the floor, pouring out the pack of frozen turkey wings, three pieces of apples, a carton of milk, a pack of hot dogs and a pack of pasta, I could feel sweats breaking out all over my body. I suddenly withdrew back to the door to find my way out and bumped into another man all dressed in black.
Still shocked and afraid, I suddenly felt my hands tightened and a white napkin placed right on my nose. I struggled to break free but the substance that was in the white napkin kicked in and I could feel my eyes closing and everything became blurry and slowly pitch black.
Am I dying or am I about to get killed?
What is happening to me?
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I sat there with a paint brush in my hand, my eyes staring blankly at the white canvas in front of me.I have always found solace in the quietness my studio exuded, the different smell of oil and paint- it was my own sanctuary and I loved being in it. But today, I wasn’t in my sanctuary, there was no familiar scent and warmth in this room. The room I was in had dim lights and gave off a cold aura as it also had meager interior decoration. I could feel the weight of Julian’s sharp gaze over my shoulders, being calculative from across the room.“60 days, nothing less, nothing more,” he suddenly said in a low growl thus breaking the silence. Julian Blackwood came off as a man who commands attention the moment he steps into the room. Tall, a lean muscular build, jet black curly shoulder-length hair and his aura gave off some sort of quiet but dangerous confidence. I could feel my heart thumping but I quickly squeezed my eyes shut hoping that would suppress the rising panic within me.
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The room became awfully quiet after Julian left. Sixty days, I had sixty days to replicate a painting I barely remembered and also not figuring out why Julian wanted me to do so but I knew there was something more to this task. I stood from my stool, paced the room for a while and coming back to the spot I stood from, I stared at the canvas again as though that would tell me the true reason why I was here. I was still fixated on the canvas when I heard a footstep approach the door. The door creaked open and I made a swift turn to the door to see who it was.It wasn't Julian.A young girl of about eighteen years of age entered, dressed in a plain black dress. She had her face down and clenched to the tray of food she had brought in as she closed the door. “Julian said you should eat,” she said in a low voice.“Is she a staff or his woman? No, I'm sure Julian wouldn't let his woman do such basic chore and plus she seems pretty young to be here in the first place,”“Hmm thanks,” I mut
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Canvas Of Secrets CHAPTER THREE
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I sat there with a paint brush in my hand, my eyes staring blankly at the white canvas in front of me.I have always found solace in the quietness my studio exuded, the different smell of oil and paint- it was my own sanctuary and I loved being in it. But today, I wasn’t in my sanctuary, there was no familiar scent and warmth in this room. The room I was in had dim lights and gave off a cold aura as it also had meager interior decoration. I could feel the weight of Julian’s sharp gaze over my shoulders, being calculative from across the room.“60 days, nothing less, nothing more,” he suddenly said in a low growl thus breaking the silence. Julian Blackwood came off as a man who commands attention the moment he steps into the room. Tall, a lean muscular build, jet black curly shoulder-length hair and his aura gave off some sort of quiet but dangerous confidence. I could feel my heart thumping but I quickly squeezed my eyes shut hoping that would suppress the rising panic within me.
Canvas Of Secrets CHAPTER ONE
I pushed open the brown wooden door and stepped into my studio, a sense of excitement rushed all over my body as I was eager to start work on the next painting. I shut the door right after me with my left hand while holding a cup of coffee on my right. Setting the cup of my coffee down on the table filled with different sketches of paintings, paint brushes, and some disorganized books about painting, I reached out my handbag and hung it on the bag holder by the wall. A number of finished paintings lay on the wall by the floor and a couple more hung on the wall. A few were finished, a few unfinished and a few were client's orders to be picked up. I always made my paintings from scratch and my mind and never copied anyone’s work no matter the amount a client was willing to pay. I pulled off my trench coat, leaving my black shirt and a pair of deep blue jeans on a pair of boots on and pulled a stool closer to an empty canvas I had already set and sat. I took a sip of the coffee and pi
