Night of Eden 102

Chapter 102

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Sponsored by Virginie. Thank you ❤️ (1/7)

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“Welcome. It's an honor to have you here."

The museum director nodded toward them. The four of them followed his lead into the building. Dana walked alone in the back, thinking about this strange feeling in her chest.

What the hell is this?

Am I jealous of Olivia now?

But she had no cause, no reason, no right to be jealous.

"I'm sorry, Dana.”

He apologized.

"But we can't turn back time.”

Perhaps that was the real goodbye.

They'd dusted off the old dirty laundry and were supposed to be on good terms. Everything had gone as she had hoped, except for the investment.

...But why do I feel this way?

Dana couldn't understand herself. She could only feel bad for herself for drowning in these strange feelings.

"Welcome."

The doors opened and uniformed staff greeted them on either side. Under a large chandelier, a giant statue symbolizing the museum greeted them.

The museum director led them up the stairs. When they were halfway up,

"Ahhh..."

Olivia exclaimed. Dana looked up with a start. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the enormous tapestry.

The fabric, which filled three walls, depicted a scene from a war. Hundreds of soldiers, chariots, horses, spears, and shields jostled for position.

"It was made during the Beringer dynasty, and it was given to us by Young Master Mcmilan, not borrowed."

"That's amazing."

Even the usually expressionless Wisburne's eyes widened.

"It's too early to be surprised."

The museum director smiled and led them to the entrance.

Once inside, dozens of paintings, large and small,  ceramics and antiques filled the display cases. From clunky earthenware with a hint of antiquity to crystal-studded jewelry boxes.

Even though Dana was not an art connoisseur, she had a good idea of how rare and valuable what was in front of her was.

"I heard the Macmilans have a great taste in art, but I didn't realize it was this good, and I'm sure this is only a small part of it. I hope the Duchess will like me and invite me to that house I've been looking for." Olivia said admiringly.

Dana clamped her mouth shut, trying not to show her emotions. Her blurred focus snapped to the object in front of her. There was a large model sailboat.

"It's modeled after the Antarctica.”

The museum director explained.

"Three hundred years ago, the 8th Duke of Macmilan was the first person to cross the Strait of Hernaldes on that ship."

Olivia slid in close beside Dana.

"It's so elaborate, isn't it, right down to the swords the sailors wore at their waists."

"Yes, it is."

Dana straightened her bowed back with her answer. She found it fascinating that the model had captured such details. But she didn't want to be next to Olivia the whole time.

Dana deliberately walked across the hall to the other side. Olivia followed right behind her. It was quite frustrating, but she didn't know how to tell her to go away.

"What is this?"

They stood in front of a painting of the ocean.

The waves were sharp as eagle talons, baring white teeth above the churning dark blue water. Dana had never seen blue so intense and deep.

"It's called an engraving."

"An engraving?"

"Yes. It's not a normal painting, but one that you can make multiple copies of, like a newspaper or a stamp."

"Prints? Drawings?"

Olivia asked the museum director, and Dana looked at the painting again. Upon closer inspection, the borders were crisp and clean, unlike the other paintings, which looked like they had been overpainted many times.

"I heard that in some countries in the Far East, they use artwork like this as wrapping paper."

"Oh my God, wrapping paper, that's ridiculous, such a fine piece of work!"

As Olivia marveled, Dana felt a familiar scent against her nose. Theodore had arrived.

"Miss Olivia seems to have a taste for exotic paintings, doesn't she?"

"Yes, I like them very much."

"Then why don't you go over there?"

Theodore pointed to the opposite entrance. The museum director approached as if he'd been waiting for them.

"There's one special exhibit you can only see today. I was originally going to show it to you last, but would you like to see it now?"

Before Olivia could respond, Theodore nodded.

"I'd like to."

"Follow me."

Olivia glanced back at Theodore, then turned away. Wisburne did the same. Joined by the other visitors, they trotted behind the museum director like meek sheep.

Dana stood where she was, watching the crowd of people disappear in the other direction.

"Dana."

He suddenly called her name.

"Let's go somewhere else."

He grabbed her hand again, just as suddenly. She froze again, just as she had when she'd dropped the bookmark.

"Mr. Macmilan... No, Master..."

"You have something to ask me, don't you?"

The pulling arm and the whirling head stopped.

Yes, they needed to talk.

He started walking in the opposite direction, and Dana had no choice but to follow.

After a few more rooms, they came to a closed door in the middle of a grayish-white wall. The guard standing in front of it jumped to his feet and unlocked the lock.

The door opened. The atmosphere was very different from the showroom. It looked like someone's office, with a rug, a fireplace, and an armchair. It was decorated like a study of sorts.

Click.

The sound of the door locking behind her rang loudly.

It triggered another memory Dana had forgotten.

It was probably the first day of Theodore’s engagement party. She bumped into Nicola Richter in the music room. Then she ran away from the angry master, but was eventually caught.

In a dark warehouse.

Locking the door behind her.

"Why were you laughing so hard?”

Theodore leaned in and kissed her. Dana couldn't resist for more than a moment before she gave in.

The sensation of being crushed against the shelves, the sound of their saliva mixing, the occasional gasp from the man, came back.

He buried his face in the nape of her neck, trying to control his breathing, but it didn't work. She could still vividly remember the hardness of his lower body thrusting into her lower abdomen.

"Do you know what this is?”

Unfortunately, Dana did.

"You made me like this.”

Theodore had whispered as he rubbed his aroused body against hers.

“There's a perfect spot inside you, and I want to put it there.”

She should have felt horror at the nakedness of his words, but she didn't. Dana was shocked, and all the more so for it.

"It's an unpublished collection."

The sudden words snapped her out of her memories. She clasped her hands together, took a deep breath to control her racing pulse, and looked around.

There were other works of art, but they were different from the showroom, from the shape and size of the display cases to the paintings. There weren't many, but they seemed very special, perhaps because they were labeled "unpublished.”

A pond full of water lilies, a woman lying languidly on a couch, a cherub that looks like a scene from mythology...

As her eyes slowly wandered around, they stopped on a painting on an easel.

Dana couldn't take her eyes off the painting. She was probably not the only one. It was too bizarre to be a painting.

"It's by a no-name artist, who died not long ago without selling a single painting."

Theodore stood beside her.

"This kind of red is called carmine red. It's also called the Queen's Red."

The blood-red color tugged hard at Dana's gaze.

"Do you know where they extract such a vivid red?"

He didn't wait for an answer.

"Worms."

"Worms...?"

Dana repeated, stunned.

"It's called a soft-shelled worm, and when you kill and crush the female, it produces a red dye like that. The South Islanders fought wars to get this carmine red."

Dana looked at the painting again. It made her feel queasy, reminding her of the crimson blood of dead bugs.

"The Macmilans are dramatically expanding their gallery. Even my father, who was skeptical of buying and selling paintings, has read the times."

Theodore's voice was serious.

"There will come a time when ordinary people like you will be buying and collecting paintings, and I, as the heir of the family, must be prepared for that change."

She stared at him in surprise.

All play and no eat. She thought it was the Master.

"This will one day be the most famous and expensive painting in the world."

Dana's head snapped back to the painting.

"You know why? Because I made it so."

Yes, of course.

Dana thought to herself.

He always had control over everything. His breathing, his mood, even the situation, was always in his favor.

It was hard to define him with words like arrogant or rude.

"What do you think?"

What do I think?

"Tell me what you think."

Dana looked at the painting again. The shapeless, red-colored canvas was as grotesque as it was unique.

"Do you think it's what I want?"

Dana stared at the painting for a long moment. It was a riddling question, but the answer was easy.

"....yes."

She arched an eyebrow, surprised that he'd even ask the question.

"Why?"

It wasn't a thoughtful answer. Dana looked at the picture as if checking it one last time.

"...They say that when you don't know the answer to something, it becomes more valuable."

Green eyes widened in surprise, then amusement.

"Who said such a wonderful thing?"

"My late grandfather."

Strangely, Theodore's eyes flickered, and he looked at Dana with an unreadable expression.

"Do you realize how much you've changed?"

A shadow loomed over her head, along with the faint scent of his scent that seemed to linger whenever he was near. Dana's body began to shake and tense again.

"Time has passed.."

Barely able to speak, Dana turned away from the man who had gotten too close.

"You've changed, Master, so much."

Yes, perhaps that was why.

At first, she hadn't noticed it at all. But the more they met, the more he changed. His harsh confession at the door the other morning was decisive.

Theodore had changed.

A nebulous belief began to sprout in Dana's mind.

She wondered why he waited so patiently for her, not questioning or disappointed when Wisburne said something strange earlier.

Maybe that was why she felt something close to jealousy toward Olivia.

"You know... I appreciate you showing me your unpublished work, but..."

Dana steadied her nerves and spoke calmly.

"Now tell me. How you came to say such strange things to Mr. Wisburne, Master."

"Why Master again?"

Dana stiffened.

"Don't call me master.”

"What should I call you?”

The languid voice that had long since fallen asleep returned.

Theodore took a step closer. Dana took a step back. A slow-burning face looked down at her.

"Theo."

The low, locked voice tickled her spine.

"Call me Theo. And I'll tell you."

Somewhere in those cold eyes, she detected the faintest hint of a smile, and Dana's heart sank and began to beat uncontrollably again.

"Stop it."

She deliberately kept her voice firm. She was trying to act nonchalant, but her legs were shaking so badly it was hard to stand.

"Come on, tell me. About the investment."

Dana turned away from him and stood in the middle of nowhere. Directly in front of her was a small jewelry box. Her wavering eyes traced the embossed pattern on the silver box. No, she wasn't really looking at it, just resting her gaze on it.

But then Theodore came along again and casually explained.

"It's a wristwatch. It's a watch on a bracelet."

Suddenly, she was focused on the object inside. Theodore was right, there was a bracelet, and to her surprise, a watch was embedded in the middle of the string.

"Ortwal III, you've heard of him?"

There was nothing Dana could do about it, though she knew he wasn’t really waiting for an answer.

"He said it was made especially for his forgetful wife."

With that, Theodore reached out and plucked the watch from the jewelry box. Dana was trapped between the dresser and the man's body. He was too close, and there was no room to escape.

It brought back the sensations of the day they'd ridden together in the downpour.

He was completely aroused that day, too. She remembered his ragged breath against her crown whenever she flailed to escape.

He pulled the watch all the way out, then took her hand and put it on. The cold metal tightened around her wrist.

"Looks good on you."

"Don't do this."

Dana tried, almost pleading, to untie the string around her wrist.

"You've always refused my gifts. You've never accepted them."

The hand tugging at the metal clasp froze.

"Come here."

He led her elsewhere, in front of another painting. It seemed to depict a city street.

"What do you think the title is?"

He didn't wait for her to answer.

"It’s Eighth Avenue."

The sweet whisper made Dana feel drunk.

"Don't you remember? I told you it was my favorite painting."

And then the veil of memory was lifted again.

"Kreutz has all my favorite paintings, too. I recently brought in a landscape called Eighth Avenue, which I think you'll like.

Yes, it was definitely 'Eighth Avenue'.

She thought it was amazing how the artists managed to capture moving things like carriages and people, and she told herself that she would go to the museum someday.

But now she was actually seeing the painting.

Dana looked at it again. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't just a street. It was a rainy street. The people, the umbrellas, the sky, everything was bathed in a strange blue-gray light.

"I thought of you as soon as I saw it."

She looked up at him in surprise, and he looked back.

"This painting is yours, too, since I bought it thinking of you from the beginning."

"Master."

"Theo."

He insisted. Dana couldn't help but ask.

"What the hell are you doing to me, now? Why are you-"

Theodore looked into her eyes, the same color as the painting.

"You wanted to clear your past, and all I have is this."

Dana felt her breath catch in her throat. Her heart raced uncontrollably. Theodore walked to the window and leaned against the sill. His backlit form took on an unrecognizable glow like the black night.

"Do you really think I've changed?" (Theo)

Dana turned to face him, at a loss for words.

"Well, I'm not so sure." (Theo)

Dana was seized with fear, as if she had been transported back in time. Before the Master, the maid could only do one thing: run away.

"Next time...." (Dana)

She gasped and stumbled backward.

"I’ll hear about the investment... later... when... you’re ready p. No, you don't have to tell me, I'll figure it out on my own." (Dana)

She turned and stalked frantically to the door, her hand on the handle of the firmly closed door.

"Dana."

He called out to her. His voice sounded rough.

"Am I the only investor in the world interested in developing Lewis Station?"

She paused.

"Think about it."

Her stiffened body whirled half a turn toward Theodore, who stepped out of the backlight and approached her slowly, his face polite and expressionless.

"It's not hard for me to drop it, but new investors will keep popping up. Are you going to fight them every time, telling them how valuable your work is?"

Dana's mouth slowly opened.

"Shouldn't you be protecting your precious Porche?"

"What are you trying to do?"

"I'm trying to show you that I can help you. Or ruin you."

The last part was enough to completely crush the tenuous bud of trust that had just sprouted.

Dana turned to face him, screaming inwardly that he couldn't mean it, and Theodore curled the corners of his mouth gently, as if he'd seen right through her.

"Don't worry. I'm just trying to show you, literally. I still like to show off in front of you."

His voice was as cold as ever, despite the smirk on his face.

"I wonder what's left between us now that we've wiped the slate clean, as you say."

Theodore strode toward her. Overwhelmed, she froze, staring blankly at the shadow that began to consume her.

"You need someone to help you," he said, his eyes cool and calm.

"A strong, powerful man who will stand by your side so you can continue to do something worthwhile."

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