Page 53 of Painted Scars

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Zara Grey regards me with a surprise. “You bought them?”

“Of course, I did.” I nod and look over at where Nina is standing with the curator. “Does your wife know, Samuel?”

He inhales sharply, and then lets out a strangled, “Yes.”

“Good. But you should know something,” I say and turn to face them. “The deal is off, Samuel.”

“Off?” He gulps and quickly clasps his trembling hands in front of him. “What does that mean?”

I look him over, then move my gaze to Nina’s mother who is staring at me with dread in her eyes. “It means I’m keeping your daughter.”

Grabbing the wheels of my chair I head toward Nina, leaving her parents standing openmouthed in front of the painting with the girl in the green dress.

“Sally says that an anonymous buyer bought all the paintings!” Nina says the moment I approach.

I barely manage to keep my face serious. “What a selfish son of a bitch.”

“Exactly.” She nods. “Good thing that I told Mark to note the big guy as not for sale right away.”

“Why?”

She gives me a secretive smile. “That one is for you.”

I stare at her, grinding my teeth. “Where is it?”

“In the other room, around the corner, but... where are you going, Roman, wait!”

I ignore her and keep pushing my chair as fast as it would go toward the room she indicated. We agreed she wouldn’t do the self-portrait for the exhibition, and I’ll be damned if I was going to let anyone see it. They are taking it down right away, or I’m killing someone.

“Roman!” Nina’s heels click behind me as she tries to follow. “It’s not the one where I’m naked!” she shouts after me.

Suddenly, there is absolute silence in the gallery. I stop and turn to find at least fifteen people, including Nina’s parents, staring at her with shock on their faces.

She doesn’t seem to notice, and comes to stand in front of me, with her hands on her hips. “Why do you always need to make a scene?”

I raise my eyebrows. “You just informed the whole gallery that there is a painting of you naked, and I’m the one making a scene?”

She blinks, looks over her shoulder at the people who are still staring at her, and snickers. “Oops.”

“Yes.” I nod my head. “Let’s go see that painting before I lose my shit, because there are at least ten men over there imagining you without clothes right now.”

She giggles and motions toward her left. “This way.”

We round the corner and enter a separate section of the gallery. It’s almost as big as the first, but there is only one painting showcased there. Three spotlights illuminate it from above. The exhibition just opened so there are only two people here. They’re standing off to the side, which gives me an undisrupted view of the composition.

Like Nina’s other works, it’s done mostly in grays and black, but the shapes are sharper here, more recognizable. The whole bottom part shows piles of rocks, parts of buildings, and different debris. Clouds of smoke here and there are done in white paint. Above the central pile of debris, a lone figure sporting huge devil horns looms. He’s also done in black with shades of gray, and holds a huge sledgehammer in his right hand as if he’s in mid-swing. The figure’s face isn’t visible because he wears a huge red helmet in the shape of a wolf’s jaws, and a long red cloak floats behind it. It’s magnificent.

“Why is he smashing everything?” I ask, not able to move my eyes from the scene.

“Because he can, I guess.”

“What is the stuff scattered around? City ruins?”

“Not really. It’s a metaphor.”

“For what?” I ask.

Nina leans toward me and whispers in my ear, “For my poor demented mind. Or whatever is left of it after you so skillfully demolished it, Roman.”

My head snaps to the side and I stare at Nina, processing what she just said. I need her to elaborate, but she just stands there, looking at the painting. I hook a finger on the belt loop on her pants and turn her to face me. “Explain.”

“You are a clever man, Roman. Think about it, and you’ll come to the conclusion for yourself.” She kisses me and then turns toward Mark who is waving at her from the entrance, leaving me to stare at the painting in front of me.


Tags: Neva Altaj Romance