All Chapters of Billionaire Daddy's Little Artist: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

*William*I poured coffee into mugs for the two of us as the sun shone into our hotel room. Lily sat at a small table near the window basking in the glowing light. She looked exquisite with her beautiful brown locks reflecting the sunlight and cascading down her shoulders as she stared off toward the sunshine. I pondered if she was thinking about our intimate moment not many hours prior.I still was having flashbacks running through my mind feeling her beneath me last night, letting me pound into her and pleasure her. I loved that she gave in to me, showing me she trusted me completely. I wanted her to feel that way, to know it was safe to be vulnerable with me. She had become so important to me, and I wanted her to know she was safe in my arms in any position. I heard her sigh happily as I set down her coffee mug on the table and I moved my chair closer to her as I reached for her hand. Her eyes met mine in a solid gaze sweeping over my face. Did my face glow as much as hers di

*Lily*Shivers ran down my spine, and I was feeling like Jean had something sinister up his sleeve. As a notorious art thief, he most likely did have some ominous plans, but I couldn't be sure if they involved me or not. After all, we just ran into each other on the street. It was a coincidence… right?I had a sneaking suspicion creep into the back of my mind that Jean wasn't just here to ask me about my artwork. Something else was afoot. A red flag seemed to be swung back and forth in my brain trying to warn me that something was wrong. I didn't think I could trust Jean, and my mind was screaming at me to be cautious. "Actually Jean, I am waiting for William. He had some business up the road and I've been enjoying window shopping along this strip," I said with a forced smile wishing William could see us and come to my rescue. I felt so small compared to Jean as he towered over me. Jean licked his lips as he took a step closer to me and I took a step back towards the busy roa

*Lily*Finding myself trapped in a dimly lit basement was not how I expected my evening to turn out. I mentally kicked myself knowing I should have realized Jean was not who he said he was. William was right, he was dangerous. I should have listened to him. Why hadn't I heeded his words of warning?I held back my tears as I looked around the basement after Jean had dropped me on the floor unceremoniously. A few dilapidated boxes stood in the corner filled with trash and I saw a mousetrap loaded behind it. The basement was lackluster with gray cement walls and an easel stood in the other corner with a few worn paints and brushes. What was the purpose of this room? Did Jean expect me to paint here?I looked up at him straight faced and tongue tied. What did he want? He had once come across so charming, like a pleasant figure that had found his way into my life just by happenstance. He had praised my work and entertained me with promises of grandeur and fame. He could have charmed r

*Lily*I picked at the paint that had dried on my fingers wondering what time it was. Still stuck in this godforsaken shit hole of a basement, my prison felt like it was becoming smaller. My hands were red and pink from the colors I had just used in the painting and I chipped away at my nails nervously. I felt very unsanitary and wished I could have a sink to just wash my hands. I could even wash my hair, which had become slimy and sticky against my scalp.I had been given a pail to use the restroom, and I felt like it was a manipulative move to remind me I was a caged animal. Jean had come in a few times to check on my work and breathe heavily down my neck. He spared me any encouragement as he dragged me around this basement roughly hoping to get me started on a painting.I shivered thinking about it, because I couldn't stand being around him any longer than I had to. His true colors had shone through and they were ugly. I scoffed as I wondered if the word ugly was too kind of a

*Lily*What would I give to have access to a comfortable pillow or a throw blanket? Something to rest my eyes on for just a few minutes. A fluffy pillow would be a welcome sight. I wished to lay my aching head down and catch a few minutes of much-needed sleep. Although, I couldn't be sure it would be a restful sleep knowing Jean was in this building waiting for me to finish my first few paintings. I pursed my lips thinking how I would never complain of an uncomfortable old chair or bed again after this experience. Even if I was given a stiff cot, I'd happily sleep in it with no questions asked. I contemplated whether I'd sleep on a stained mattress at this point. I could feel my desperation turning into irrational compromises and ideas.I shivered controllably feeling even more exposed and vulnerable the longer I stayed down in this basement. The thin fabric of my dress had been nice when visiting the Louvre but not helpful in the dungeon I was trapped in. How long had it bee