XI

"Beautiful work, isn't it?"

I gasped and turned my head quickly.

There, standing not far from me, was Marcus Blackwood.

He looked the same as the last time we met. Tidy, calm, with a black suit that fit his body perfectly. His black hair was perfectly styled.

I blinked a few times, making sure this wasn't a coincidence too strange to believe. "Marcus?"

He smiled a little as if not surprised to see me here. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

I was still trying to understand the situation. "Do you come here often?" I finally asked.

"Occasionally," he replied casually. He stepped closer, standing next to me, looking at the same painting. "I know the owner of this gallery. The artist who painted this is an old friend of mine."

I gave him a quick glance. "Of course. I forgot that you have many connections in the art world."

He laughed softly, the low sound blending with the quiet atmosphere in this room. "Connections? Perhaps. But more than that, I do like places like this."

I gav