Chapter 46 Useful
\-Lilith-
“He insulted me, in front of all those people—those nobodies—and they all laughed, Lilith. They fucking laughed at me!”
Colin paced his office like a rabid animal.
I let out an exhausted sigh, sinking back into the armrest of the couch. I should have stayed a bit longer at the hospital.
“I know why he’s so smug,” he paused, like realization had just hit him, then resumed. “He thinks he’s suddenly important. It’s because of Grandfather.”
How easy it would be to call this relationship quits and end this nonsense.
He continued, his voice rising with rage. “I’m going to teach him a lesson.”
God, he sounded like a paper tiger.
He went on. “Remind him he’s nothing but a leech—a parasite sucking off the Blackwell—”
“Okay, we get it. You hate your uncle,” I snapped upright. “I’m tired of listening to you go on and on about the same thing, Colin.”
He blinked at me, like comprehension was physically impossible.
I leaned forward, lowering my voice just enough to make the threat clear. “Listen, if you don’t figure out a way to take that trip us on that trip you’ve been dodging—” I paused, letting it sink in. “—to your family’s vacation home, then we’re done.”
I rose to my feet, straightening my coat. “Call me when you’re ready to be serious.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.
With that, I turned on my heels and walked out, letting the silence speak for me—and set my plan in motion. If there was one thing I knew about Colin, it was that he could hardly say no. Especially not to me.
From there, I went straight to Mother’s gallery. As always, her attention was glued to her screen, eyes flicking between a document and the display in front of her.
“Hello, Mother,” I greeted her, coming around her desk.
Yesterday had marked a turning point in our relationship. I felt closer to her now than I ever had.
“You’re late,” she said curtly.
I smirked, leaning against her desk. “I know. I had to tie up a few loose ends.”
My eyes skimmed her desk and landed on the thing with Celeste on it.
I picked it up. Next month’s issue of Legacy Magazine.
“What’s this doing here?”
“Oh, I’m an elite member, so I receive issues early. This time, the magazine thought that as her ‘mother’”—she made air quotes—“this should be my proud moment.”
Her voice dropped coldly. “If only they knew how badly I want to rip that fake smile off her face.”
I set the magazine down, stacking a pile of documents over it. “Don’t worry, Mother. Soon, I’ll be the Ashford they’ll want to talk about.”
She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look up from her screen. Silence stretched between us like she didn’t agree. Odd.
Finally, she folded her hands and tapped her fingers lightly against the desk. “You’re here to be useful, right?”
I lifted a brow.
“We’re hosting an exhibition next month,” she continued, eyes flicking between her screen and the document. “And I’ve been scouting for artists worthy enough to showcase their talents at my gallery.”
She let out a small sigh. “The emerging art category is my least favorite. I don’t get the buzz around raw, unknown names. My assistant is busy with the others, so this is where you come in.”
She tossed me a folder. “Here. It contains portfolios of the upcoming artists someone suggested. Studio addresses are included, you’re going to see their work firsthand.”
I flipped through the folders. There were at least five of them. A painter, a sculptor… and then a photography portfolio caught my eye. Raw. Magnetic. Real.
She glanced over and frowned. “Ignore that one. He didn’t even include a photo of himself, and it’s just photography.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I can only pick two in this category,” she continued. “The choice is yours. And please—anything but the photographer.”
I chuckled lightly.
“Go on,” she said, sliding two business cards toward me. “Start now. Get back to me when you’ve made your choice.”
I straightened, feeling like a kid on a side quest. “I won’t let you down.”
She leaned back, letting her lips curve into a small, approving smile. “I know you won’t.”
“See you later,” I said, stepping out of the office.
Outside, I opened the folder again, unable to take my eyes off the images by Daniel Harper.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” I murmured, “but you said it yourself. It’s my call now.”
\---
When I arrived at the listed address, I nearly bolted.
The “you should have listened to your mother” warning rang in my head, but all I wanted to do was ignore it.
The building looked rundown, but my maps insisted I was in the right place. Nothing about it screamed “studio,” but I told myself some artists worked out of their apartments.
After all, I was standing in front of a studio apartment.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and started up the stairs, ignoring every red flag. This Daniel person lived on the sixth floor, the elevator was broken, and every step creaked under my weight.
Loud music thumped from a room, mixed with smoke and something I couldn’t place.
It doesn’t have to be him, Lilith. My mind reminded me. Still, I ignored it.
By the fifth landing, I froze. A man lay collapsed on the floor, motionless. My heart skipped.
Is he… dead?
Then he snored and shifted. Relief hit me so hard I almost laughed. I tried to tiptoe past him, avoiding him as best as I could.
Just as I reached the edge of the landing, something cold and heavy grabbed my left leg.
His hand.
My blood ran ice-cold. Instinct overtook thought. I screamed and tripped backward.
The world flipped, the ceiling drifting away from me.
I was falling and there was no control, no support.
My heart sank.
A casket flashed, mother in tears, the headlines:
Lilith Ashford dies from a frightful fall.
Except, I didn’t.
I landed on something soft not the hard floor—No, I got caught.
By a man. A strong one.
I blinked, trying to focus, frozen in place. My heart was racing, not just from fear, but from something else entirely. At the same time, a faint, woody scent drifted from him, and a wave of vertigo spun my head, yet I couldn’t take my eyes off him.