Chapter 55 Curveball
Penelope could hardly believe her ears as Lena recounted her ordeal with Vincent. Awe, anger, and deep concern flickered across her face.
"He's such a sicko!" Penelope burst out, her voice trembling with rage. "He actually kidnapped you?"
"Yes," Lena replied, drawing out the word for what felt like the hundredth time.
Penelope sat frozen, struggling to process it. Since Lena married Ethan, her life had turned into something that sounded more like an untouchable fairytale than reality. From their grand wedding to the honeymoon in Greece, everything had seemed so perfect until now. The thought that her childhood friend had gone through such horror filled her with a mix of disbelief and fury.
"Are you sure you're perfectly fine now? He won't come back, right?" Penelope asked, her tone sharp with worry.
"He won't," Lena said with a light chuckle. "Ethan's house is practically a fortress."
That eased Penelope a little, though not completely. She offered words of comfort, assuring Lena that everything would be alright. They talked a little longer before Lena finally ended the call.
With a sigh, she set her phone aside and decided to clear her head with her usual morning walk.
Lena found walking around the Sinclair mansion surprisingly therapeutic. The estate stretched endlessly, a perfect blend of wealth and artistry. Manicured lawns rolled like green silk, and every corner whispered of elegance.
Her favorite spot was the little garden nestled between two massive buildings. A narrow wooden bridge arched gracefully over a bed of roses, their delicate fragrance drifting on the cool evening breeze. She lingered there for a moment, letting her fingers skim the rail, before curiosity tugged her further along the trail.
The path curved toward a large building at the far end of the property one she had never explored before. Its towering windows glimmered faintly in the golden dusk, and something about its quiet mystery pulled her closer.
Heart quickening with excitement, Lena made her way toward it. But just as she reached the edge of the bridge, the door swung open.
Ethan stepped out.
It wasn't his usual corporate armor of tailored suits and polished shoes. Instead, Ethan wore a crisp white polo and cargo shorts, his tall frame relaxed in a way she rarely saw. For a fleeting second, he didn't look like the cold, powerful CEO the world knew he looked almost... normal.
He stopped and stared at her, his gaze unreadable. Then, in his usual cool tone, he said, "Good morning."
Lena blinked, caught off guard. He was supposed to be at work by now. "Good morning," she echoed softly.
"I see you're leaving late today," she ventured, trying to keep her voice casual.
"Oh, yeah," he replied, his voice low, almost indifferent. "Had a few things to handle at home before heading out."
"Oh... okay." She nodded quickly, resisting the urge to fidget under his piercing eyes. Turning on her heel, she started back the way she came. The last thing she wanted was to linger and remind him that he still owed her a very big scolding.
"Lena," he said, drawing out her name ever so slightly.
She froze mid-step. He caught me, she thought, biting back a nervous smile. Slowly, she turned to face him. "Yes?"
"Are you cutting your walk short because of me?" His voice was calm, but there was a hint of something in his tone, something she couldn't quite place.
"Uhmm... no," she stammered, forcing a small laugh. "I've had enough fresh air."
"Alright," he said, his eyes still locked on hers. Then, after a beat, his voice softened smooth, yet commanding in a way that made her heart skip. "Perhaps you'd like to take a walk with me?"
There was something irresistible in the way he said it, in the way he looked at her firm, assured, as though her answer had already been decided. And she didn't resist.
"Yeah... sure," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
With a subtle gesture, he motioned for her to lead the way. They began walking, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone path that curved around the vast building.
Ethan didn't speak at first. His silence was heavy, deliberate. He kept his gaze ahead, as though trying to line up words in his mind before they left his lips. He didn't want to lash out, didn't want to hurt her but he couldn't let go of the warning he still needed to give.
As they strolled in silence, Lena's eyes caught a small, square-shaped building ahead. It stood apart from the others, almost solitary, with an air of quiet secrecy about it. At first glance, it looked old and weathered by time but as they drew closer, she realized it had been newly refurbished.
Ethan veered off the main path and walked straight toward it, his strides purposeful. Instinctively, Lena followed, though curiosity gnawed at her.
The building loomed larger as they approached, its sleek black door gleaming under the soft morning light. Ethan didn't pause; he reached for the handle and pulled it open with ease, then stepped aside, gesturing for her to go in.
Lena hesitated, her stomach tightening. It was so early that the grounds were practically deserted. No staff, no gardeners, no one in sight. A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she blurted out, "You're not trying to kidnap me, are you?"
Ethan glanced over his shoulder at her, and for the first time that morning, a low laugh rumbled from his chest. The sound was deep, disarming, and far too rare. Without answering, he stepped inside.
Lena stood frozen for a moment. I was actually serious, she thought, biting her lip. Still, she followed him in, her pulse quickening with every step.
As Lena stepped inside, her heart plummeted to the floor.
The building was nothing like she expected. From the outside, it looked small and simple, but inside, it stretched wide and tall like a private gallery. There were no windows at eye level, only a row of slim, high-set panes that let in soft strips of morning light. The beams fell perfectly against the walls, illuminating the space in a warm, almost sacred glow.
And on those walls... her breath caught.
Her father's paintings.
Every single one the pieces she had risked her life to recover, the last remnants of his genius hung in perfect harmony before her. For a moment, Lena couldn't move. Her chest ached with a cocktail of joy and sorrow so fierce it stole the air from her lungs. She thought she had lost them forever.
Ethan did this, she realized, her eyes stinging.
Slowly, she turned to look at him. But he was already watching her. His gaze didn't waver sharp, intense, yet softened by something she couldn't name. Mesmerized, he seemed to drink in the emotions radiating from her face, as if her wonder was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
As their eyes locked, he straightened, his expression sharpening as if to reclaim control of the moment.
"Uhm..." He cleared his throat lightly. "I was thinking of returning them to your father's gallery." His voice was smooth, deliberate, but there was a glint of pride lurking beneath the calm. "But for safety purposes..." He let his gaze sweep across the room, then back to her. "...it's best they stay here."