<b>Chapter </b><b>221 </b>
Dawson nodded. “Yeah, three months younger. Elena’s been going crary in her socialite circles, ranting about Ondo and Atates. The <b>gossip’s</b>. everywhere- even I’ve heard it. Han into him again at Amour Bistro at lunch. As sont as he said his name, I put two and two togethe
A water escorted them to a top-tier site. The VIP hadn’t arrived yet, Dawson didn’t dare anter, so they waited outside.
Vanessa, ever vignt, tested thetest scoop to Aria.
Aria, reading the message, instantly thought of that rear–end collision. Was it really just coincidence? Her phone buzzed–another massage,
Aria, your paintings have turned up. I’m swamped this week. I’ll be at the Fine Art Society judging entries in three days. If you’re free,e by otherwise, we’ll set another time.
Copying others! works was no big deal for her, she could finish a painting in no time.
But if those three forgeries ended up in the market, it could cause serious trouble <b>for </b>collectors.
She was nning to go to the Fine Art Society to meet Mono anyway might as well grab the paintings while she was there.
[Okay.] Aria replied.
A stinging <b>ache </b>burned across her back. She headed for the shower<b>, </b>applied ointment, and had barely finished when her phone chimed–a special ringtone.
She answered. “It’s me.” White Fox’s voice was hollow, stripped of its usual <b>spark </b>so drained Aria could feel it.
“I know. What’s <b>wrong</b><b>?</b>”
A harsh pause. “The boss told someone your real identity”
Aria’s heart seized “Who?”
“Someone looking for Sara. Apparently, it’s a rtive.”
The name hit her like a blow to the <b>chest</b>–Sara. How long had it been since she’dst heard that name?
After a beat, White Fox added, “Just be careful, Ana. Watch everyone around <b>you</b>, understand?
When the <b>call </b><b>ended</b><b>, </b>she stood at her window, letting the cold windsh her skin,
At the Fine Art Society, Westin was ying the tour guide, leading Mono through the galleries.
The ck vortex painting still lingered in his mind, muting his appreciation of everything else.
“Mono, I remember you once said your apprentice wasn’t a trained artist by trade. What does she actually do? How long did she stu
Thinking of his wayward disciple, Mano’s stern features softened, the hint of <b>a </b><b>smile </b>on his lips. “To be precise, my apprentice only studied painting for two years”
“Two years Westin blurted out. “That’s impossible!”
Mono snorted. “Why impossible? Somelignes, row talent leaves <b>hard </b>work in the dust”
13:03 Tue<b>, </b>10 Jun
Chapter <b>221 </b>
Aria had been found by Gael, a battered girl barely twelve years old, mate and motionless for three <b>days</b><b>, </b>
At the time<b>, </b>Mono himself was suffering a creative drought.
Sitting with her, he’d drawn for three days straight, and from that vigil was born his low–famous Maiden in the Cape.
She’d watched him, then finally picked up a brush, scribbling nonsense.
<b>Gael </b>bought art supplies by the truckload just to keep up w
with her.
Not wanting to see her waste the materials, Mono began to teach her himself–two years of patient, relentless instruction.
When she copied his paintings, the technique was there but the soul was missing
When she painted for herself, all the feeling was there–but none of the polish.
Her memory was frighteningly sharp; she learned anything quickly.
Beyond painting, she soaked up everything Gael could teach her about medicine and more.
Two yearster, she left, and Mono knew better than to try to stop her.
At least she kept in touch, asionally mailing him paintings–even if they were always forgeries.
Mono turned to Westin, “By the way, my apprentice is a woman.”