Chapter 99 Art exhibition
CHAPTER 99: Art exhibition
Lily
I plucked a champagne flute from a passing tray, and swirled the pale, bubbling liquid around, the condensation cooling my palm as I stood before a sprawling abstract piece that seemed to bleed gold and crimson. I didn't know much about art but i was impressed and honestly, wasn't eager to learn. I just needed to show enough interest to Chauncey.
The gallery was a sea of refined whispers and expensive perfume. The wealthy and knowledgeable moving about admiring paintings and shelling out insane amounts to own each onen.
Yet all I could focus on was the man of the hour. I had been following his movement all along, how he way moved through the room, effortless, commanding, and utterly out of reach.
“It’s a bit bold, don’t you think?”
I turned slightly to find a young man standing barely two feet away, smiling a smile that was supposedly meant to catch my attention.
I arched a perfectly groomed brow. “Excuse me?”
He blinked, adding quickly. “The brushwork, I mean. I’m Dean,” he extended his hand.
My gaze slowly raked over him. He was probably in his early twenties, older than I was. He looked every inch a trust fund baby, or what the girls back in school referred to as a nepo-baby. Even with that, compared to Chauncey, he felt like a shadow. He lacked that rugged, roguish, magnetic presence and charm that Chauncey possessed. The kind of heavy, masculine gravity that made my breath hitch whenever he stood too close. And not to mention that he was way more handsome, wealthy and influential. The Rutherford's were the number one old money family in the company. So, he was way out of poor Dean's league.
“And i'm not interested,” I said flatly, returning my gaze to the canvas. “Get lost.”
He withdrew his hand, not particularly fazed by my response. Instead he smiled, like I had politely introduced myself.
“Seems you like artwork too,” he pointed out. I ignored him, irritation slowly creeping into my veins.
“Tough crowd,” he chuckled, stepping closer into my personal space. “Forgive me, but i think a girl as stunning as you shouldn't be standing alone with a painting when there’s a whole room of people wanting to meet you.”
“Well, I’m not alone,” I snapped, my irritation bubbling up like the golden liquid in my glass. “I’m here with my boyfriend. And he doesn't like seeing other men around me,” I lied, hoping that would scare him away.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be working until, then suddenly a warm, heavy weight settled across my shoulders, and the scent of expensive sandalwood and tobacco that i had spent the entire car ride to the gallery inhaling, enveloped me.
“Is there a problem here, darling?” Chauncey’s voice dropped into a low, possessive rumble that sent a shiver straight down my spine.
I quickly turned to the side to see the playful amusement in his eyes. He heard me and was playing along. I relaxed into his hold.
He pulled me against his side, his touch possessive and exaggerated, his eyes locked on the intruder with a challenge that was terrifyingly attractive.
“Can i help you?” He asked Dean, then turned to me. “I turn my back for one second to speak with a collector and someone is already trying to move in?”
The young man’s face went pale, his confidence vanishing in the wake of Chauncey Rutherford's stellar performance.
“No—no problem at all, sir. My apologies.” He stumbled over his words as he hastily retreated, disappearing into the crowd.
I looked up at Chauncey, my heart hammering against my ribs, and he burst into a soft, melodic laugh, his grip loosening and falling away from around me, spiking a jolt of disappointment inside me.
“That was something,” he shook with quiet laughter. “Boyfriend, huh? That was quite a performance.”
I laughed with him, though that “performance” had stirred something far stronger and more dangerous inside me than mere amusement. I wished only for it to be real.
“Thank you for the rescue,” I whispered. “He was beginning to annoy me,” I replied turning back to the painting.
“Honestly, the kid wasn't bad,” he said, his expression turning a bit more serious as he looked toward where the man had fled.
I turned back to him.
But he's not you. He's not what I want.
“No, thanks. I'll pass.”
He crossed his arms across his chest, his muscles rippling at the movement, a glint of genuine amusement in his eyes.
“Is that right? You know you’ll never get to know anyone if you keep scaring them off like that.” He paused, tilting his head a little. “Unless, of course, you actually have a boyfriend to protect you.”
That'd be you…soon.
“Not yet,” I murmured. “However, there’s someone I like.”
His brow rose high in a mix of suprise and amusement. “Really now?”
I chuckled. “Yes. And that's all I can say. For now. Thank you again, Chauncey.”
“Come on, it was nothing,” he replied, his tone softening. “The least I can do is look out for you since you’re here with me. Speaking of which…” Before I could react, he easily wrested the champagne glass from my grip. “You shouldn't be drinking this young lady.”
“I’m nineteen!” I grumbled, reaching for it.
He laughed softly, holding the glass out of my reach with a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Still a kiddo to me,” he joked, patting the top of my head.
The word felt like a stab. Kiddo.
The irritation flared in my chest, a sharp contrast to the pride I felt for him.
I looked around the gallery. “Congratulations. This is incredible,” i said, eager to change the subject. “Everything tonight has been a success. You should be proud.”
He was about to respond when his phone buzzed in his hand. I glanced down, and my blood turned to ice as the name CHERRY illuminated the screen.
Why was she calling him?
The immediate change in him was even more infuriating and nauseating. Gone was the relaxed, teasing brother, replaced by a sharp, eager intensity that I had never seen him direct at me.
Chauncey
“Excuse me, Lily. I need to take this,” I said, handing the champagne flute back to her, stepping away before she could see the grin I couldn't quite suppress.
I moved toward a quieter corner of the gallery, my pulse quickening. “Hey. I honestly thought you were never going to call. I was almost about to say ‘fuck it’ and call you later.”
She chuckled lightly. “In that case, you’re going to learn that I always keep my word, Mr Rutherford,” her voice crackled through the line, smooth and teasing.
I smirked. “I prefer Chauncey better. From you. But as for what you said—I’m looking forward to it,” I replied, leaning against a cold marble pillar.
She laughed. The sound was light and magical, and made something loosen inside me.
“How’s the exhibition going? Is the Man of the Hour enjoying his triumph?”
“It’s going well,” I said, glancing back at Lily, who was staring at me strangely. “I’m actually here with Lily. She just got back.”
“Lily is back?” she sounded surprised. “I had no idea.”
“She got back today.”
“Oh. Could you put her on? I want to say hello.”
I walked back toward Lily, extending the phone. “It’s Cherry. She wants to speak to you.”
Lily glared at the device as if it were a live grenade. “No,” she said sharply, backing away. “I—I have to go to the restroom. Tell Cherry i said hi, and I’ll call her later.”
And with that, she hurried off before I could argue.
I pressed the phone back to my ear, a frown imprinted between my brows as I watched her disappear from sight.
“She’s heading to the lady's room. She said she'll get back to you soon.”
“Alright. That’s fine,” Cherry said, her tone easy. “I have to let you get back to it anyway. Let's meet up when I get off work tonight?”
I broke into a smile vefore i could help it. “I’m counting on it,” I said.
As I dropped the call, grinning from ear to ear, the screen lit up again immediately. This time, it was Silas.
“Brother, what’s—”
“Chauncey, listen to me,” Silas’s voice was a jagged edge of panic and fury. Immediately I was at alert. My brother was rarely if never panicky.
Vera.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Damien. That scumbag is back in the country. He’s in the city. Vera is missing. I think he has my wife,” he gritted. “I’m sending you a location now. Make sure Lily gets home safe, then meet me there.”
The air left my lungs.
The lights of the gallery suddenly seemed too bright, the success of the night turning to ash. I looked toward the restrooms where Lily had vanished, my jaw locking. The peace was over.