Chapter 3

Lyla stared at her reflection in the mirror. Who would have believed she was going to be the wife of a billionaire? She was thinking out plans on how to peacefully cohabit with Grey. Deep down, she believed he was all acting tough.

She took a deep breath, clutching her stomach which was still bubbling from the food they ate the previous night. She wasn't used to them and no one warned her not to eat much of it.

She heard a soft knock on the door. 

“Yes?” she said softly.

The door squeaked open and a lady walked in. She had a black gown with a white white apron on.

“Hello, good morning” Lyla greeted.

“Good Morning Mrs. Blackwood. It's time to have your bath” she courted.

First of all, Mrs. Blackwood? A little smile crosses her lips. “Please, I'd prefer Lyla”

“Sorry, but that's how we're instructed to address every relation to the Blackwoods” the last reply, head still buried. 

Lyla made a nod of acceptance. “What's your name?”

“Janet ma'am” she responded sharply.

“Okay, Janet. I can have my bath myself. You won't need to stress yourself” she said.

In movies, Lyla knows they usually insist. But with the way Janet bowed and turned to leave, she knew the servants were instructed to do as they were told and the choices made by the billionaires.

“Janet”, Lyla called her back. Janet turned around and genuflected. “Have you seen my husband this morning”

She noticed the disturbed look on Janet's face. Like she was searching for words. “Janet?”

“Urm.. Mr. Blackwood is indisposed” Janet managed to mutter with a stuttering voice.

‘Indisposed? But he barely drank it took anything last night’ Lyla thought. 

They had returned late from the wedding after party last night and Grey barely had the strength to show her to her room. He was on his cigarette all night, meeting with unfamiliar faces who were big names in the city.

Lyla's gaze drifted to the vintage clock by the bedstand. It was about ten in the morning. And he was still indisposed? “Take me to his room Janet” she instructed. Janet's gaze shifted to the floor.

“I'm sorry Mrs. Blackwood but he doesn't let people come close”

“I am his wife. Take me — to his room!” She ordered with a more commanding tone this time. She knew Janet would do it, seeing the way she trembled. She didn't like that version of herself, but she needed it now.

She zipped up her gown and led the way, letting Janet mutter the direction as she followed behind. She noticed she didn't want to do it.

Grey's room wasn't so distant from hers. She got to the door and waited. “Thank you” she appreciated, watching as the poor lady fought with her balance as she walked away.

Lyla pushed the door open and froze instantly. Her jaw almost dropped to the floor.

Grey zipped up his trousers and kissed the forehead of the girl lying naked in his bed. “Wait here love” he whispered into her ear.

He walked up to Lyla and obstructed her from looking at who it was. “What do you want? It's early” he blurted.

He wasn't concerned. He didn't seem to care how Lyla felt stabbed in the chest. Lyla took slow steps back, his words hitting her like a punch in the gut. She couldn't believe he felt unbothered.

“Did you just say it's early?” She asked. “Grey, we just got married. And the following morning you have another lady in your bed?*

“Oh.. nah..she came in last night” Grey corrected. He scoffed and inched closer to her. “I owe you nothing, Lyla. Now please leave and don't bother me till I ask for your presence” he chided her shoulder and slammed the door against her.

Lyla couldn't explain where her hurt was coming from. He was right. He owed her nothing. Then why did she feel hurt seeing him with another lady?

Or was it just the emotions from the week weighing her down?

She wiped the tears that streamed down her eyes, hurrying back to her room. She slammed the door and crashed into the cushion. She let out a scream, which got clouded by the cushion.

A knock came on her door again and it opened gently. It was Janet. “I'm sorry you had to see that” she apologized. “That was—”

“It's okay Janet. I'm fine. It's nothing” she tried composing herself. “Yes?”

“Mr. Blackwood wants you in the gallery”

In their mansion, Grey's father built a mini gallery where he would store his abandoned artworks. After he moved out, he left Grey the keys. Grey barely made use of it as he was no artist himself.

“Why?” Lyla asked. “Sorry, I asked. I'll be there immediately” she excused Janet.

______

 Grey stood at the end of the wall, staring into a large portrait visible enough to anyone who walked into the room. He sipped from his glass of wine and turned to her.

“Rumors have it that your hands are blessed, with the ability to bring art to life with paintings,” he said, walking towards Lyla.

They were surrounded by several paintings from different artists. Amongst them, were those of Lyla. 

Mr.Thompson had asked her paintings be carried alongside her belongings to the Blackwoods mansion.

Mr. Blackwood was a chronic art lover. He let her paintings stay in the gallery. Lyla was unaware that her paintings were brought to the house.

She glanced at them, lost in their beauty, the scent of the flower paints. She could scent the fragrance eluding them. She stood there totally out of words.

“How true?”

“I don't paint anymore,” she said. 

Grey smiled at her. He noticed her legs tremble as he walked up to her. “Janet!” he called.

Janet hurried into the room like she'd been standing at the door, waiting for his call. He stretched his hands and she placed a black purse in it. He unzipped it and poured out its contents.

Brushes. Lots of them. They clattered on the floor before Lyla's feet. He tossed the bag and took a few steps back. “Take off your clothes Janet” he instructed. 

Now this shot Lyla's head from the floor. She stole a glance at him, before looking at Janet in disbelief. Was she going to do it?

Janet's fingers trembled as they fought with the buttons of her black gown. Lyla could see the fear and tension in her eyes. “Grey, what's this?”

“I've stared at your art Lyla,” Grey started, shifting his gaze away from her. His eyes traveled around the room, pinpointing every one of her artworks. “They lack life, they lack desire. That passion”

“Janet put your clothes back on,” Lyla thought she could counter his instructions. But Janet wasn't listening. She was slowly done with the buttons and was pulling the sleeves down. “Grey, please tell her to stop”

“It's all empty. Zero affections. No love” he turned back to her with a smile of satisfaction. “You know what I believe Lyla? I believe nudity — is art” he ended. Janet was about to pull off her gown when Lyla hurried to her and held it up.

“I'll strip. Okay. I'll do it. But please let her go,” he offered. 

Grey's smile grew wider as he placed his cup on the table beside him. His hands traveled to his buttons. He unbuttoned his shirt, took off his belt, and let his pants fall, revealing his white underwear.

“You don't understand do you?” He placed his thumbs on its elastic, biting his lower lip.

For a second, Lyla felt her selfless thought gets interrupted by the heat his body was emitting. He was so hot. But that wasn't her focus at the time.

“The thing is — I'd love to be painted as well. Nude” he said and slowly took down his underwear. Lyla's mouth dropped.

She was lost in time, only getting herself the moment Janet joined Grey in the cubed stand. She watched as he lay on his sides, supporting his head with his palm and his elbow properly balanced on the stand.

“I've got work Lyla, be quick,” he muttered with a husked voice.

If this was a nightmare, she didn't want to wake up.