CHAPTER TWO

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. 

“Tick Tock Lexi, you really don’t want to fail,” he said with a deep voice, almost taunting. 

“Maybe if you fixed this dim light then I would have gotten a head start on the painting,” I said hastily without thinking. 

I sensed his stance changed from leaning against the door frame as he walked towards me, I clenched onto my paint brush bracing myself for what was to come. 

He leaned towards me and I could feel his breath right on my neck as I inhaled sharply. 

“I will fix the lights.. but I’m sure you know that you’re not here to get comfy right?” he said now in a low soothing voice yet commanding. 

“I don’t always get comfy when it comes to painting,” I said immediately as though that would ease the tension. 

He suddenly stood straight now and gave me a pat on the shoulder. I sensed that my heart skipped a beat at this point and I stiffened as I still held onto my brush. 

“The clock’s running Lexi,” he said and smirked before leaving the room. 

I let out a short breath as the door closed behind Julian, I could feel my stiffened chest release and I felt a little bit of air flow through my body. 

My gaze went back to the blank white canvas and looking at the brush in my hand, I remembered Julian’s words as it echoed in my head “The clock’s running”.

“Why was I here? What exactly does Julian want from me? What if I fail, what becomes of me?”

These thoughts crossed my mind as I tried to shake them off and focus on the present task before me- painting a replica of a priceless artwork. 

I finally made a move with my paint brush and started mixing my colors on the palette, trying to find the right blend. My hands trembled as it mixed the colors and they came out dull. It was quite obvious that I wasn't myself yet and I hadn't settled into my new environment to have a better view of what I was to paint. 

I took a deep breath and calmed myself cause I needed to focus and I needed to create. I dipped my brush into the paint and the strokes began to flow gradually on the canvas and once again I felt the beauty and joy that comes with painting. 

This continued for a short while until suddenly the room went dark and I made a mistake with a stroke.

“Yikes! I was already doing well with the painting.”

I had no idea what happened but I knew that I had to start all over again as I sat there hoping for the lights to come back on. I was carried away by my thoughts on how I had to finish the painting and get back to my normal life but the sound of footsteps outside the door brought me back to my senses. 

“Was it Julian again?”

I turned away from the canvas and towards the door and braced myself for another conversation with Julian but when the door opened, I couldn't see the face clearly but I knew it wasn't Julian but another man similarly dressed in a pair of black trousers and a white shirt tucked in. He had a little bit more build compared to Julian.

He came into the room flashing his flashlight upon my face, causing me to shield my eyes with my right hand. 

“I'm sorry about that,erd” he said remorsefully and moved the flashlight toward the bulb in the room. 

In that split time, I finally saw the hallway behind my door and my eyes met with Julian’s as he stood there watching me with an unreadable expression. I noticed that the lights outside my room were fine thus it was the dim light bulb I complained about that had issues. 

“At least he keeps to his words“

Suddenly, the light in the room flickered and brightened, illuminating the room. I blinked momentarily and quickly turned away from Julian’s gaze and back to my canvas. 

The man with the flashlight left the room shortly and I just knew that Julian would come right in as he might have seen the mistake made on the painting. 

“And I was right, he came right in“

He stood right behind me, his eyes fixed on my canvas.

“Much better?” he asked, his voice deep and low.

“Yes thank you,” I nodded, my heart skipping a beat.

His gaze still fixed on the canvas

“I guess Greg was right, you're indeed talented, Lexi. But talent isn't enough” 

“What do you mean? Did Greg tell you to kidnap me instead of him?” I finally found the right words to say as I removed the damaged canvas and turned to Julian.

“Well he did tell me how much of a talent you were compared to him and how you're the best artist in Toronto,” His eyes locked into mine, his expression still unreadable. 

“Why is it so hard to figure out what his intentions are for me? There is definitely a lot going on here but I haven't got a clue” 

“There is a lot you're not aware of Lexi but you'll  see,” he said. 

“Why am I really painting this? And please don't tell me it's because Greg told you I’m the best artist in Toronto,” I summoned the courage to ask. 

“I will suggest you focus on painting the artwork Lexi, you've got 60 days” he said. 

“And what happens if I'm unable to paint the artwork in 60 days? Do I get to die?"  I asked with fear in my eyes. 

He suddenly came around from the back to me and slightly leaning towards me, he lifted my face and looked at me with a certain kind of look in his eyes that I still couldn't explain.

“I wouldn't let that happen,” he said

“What does he mean by saying he wouldn't let that happen? Did he mean he wouldn't let me fail at finishing the painting in 60 days or did he mean he wouldn't let me die if I failed?"

And with that, he turned and left the room, leaving me with more questions than answers. 

The clock on the wall seemed to tick more loudly, reminding me yet again of my deadline. 

“What does Julian really want from me? What more could there be to this?”