Page 16
Chapter 16 of "Unyielding" introduces new challenges: āNothingāit was absolutely perfect. Iāve just never experienced anything like that; I think my body... Keep following!
āNothingāit was absolutely perfect. Iāve just never experienced anything like that; I think my body isoverwhelmed. These are happy tears, Sunshine,ā she said, kissing me reassuringly. I let out a sigh of relief, letting my forehead meet hers as I breathed her in.
āLetās eat and get cleaned up. I want to take you somewhere,ā V said, using my body to steady herself. Only now did the sinking feeling of the fact that I had just fucked her on the dining room table she shared with her brothersāthe same brothers who were currently in this very house.
āPlease tell me these walls are soundproof,ā I groaned. She laughed but nodded as relief washed over me.Thank God.
āWe learnt that lesson the hard way after we overheard Xav in a rather compromising position. We ended up renovating the whole house with soundproofing to be careful.ā
10
VALENTINA
Since the moment my little ray of Sunshine told me her dream was to be a gallery director, I wanted to bring her to my gallery and studio. I was ready to lay it all on the line, more so than I had already doneāif that was even possible. I wanted her to know just how far this ran for meāthat this was forever. She knew the depth of my feelings, but we hadnāt discussed what truly comes next. Where we went from here.
When we got out of my car, she looked at me quizzically. āWhatās this? I thought this place was undergoing renovations. Iāve walked past it so many times on my lunch breaks. There shouldnāt be any shows on.ā
āThis is my studio space⦠and my gallery.ā She stared at me, wide-eyed, as I unlocked the door and held it open for her. I let her go first, wanting to see her reaction to the expansive space. It was a clean slate that would be filled with my works soon enough.
āThis is incredible. Iāve never seen anything like it. You could do so much with this space.ā
āWecould do so much.ā
She looked at me dubiously, as if she hadnāt quite heard me properly. I snuck in behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and nuzzled my chin into that soft spot where her neck met her shoulders.
āI want this to be ours, Sunshine. You can do what you want when we get rid of Jason.ā She flinched at the casual threat but shook it off just as quickly.
āI never started my search for a gallery director. I couldnāt even bring myself to create anything and then you fell into my lifeāmy muse. Suddenly, I could paint again. I was inspired and everything, it all circled back to you. I donāt want to do this without you. I know it may be too much, but Iām all in. Everything to me also means forever. I want to intertwine our lives; I want you to be a part of my dream and I want to be a part of yours. If you want to go back to the art shop or the club, I wonāt stop you, but I want you to know that I would love to have you here with me.ā
She turned around, stepping back and looking at me dumbfounded.
āI have no experience. How can I run a gallery this big when Iāve never done this a day in my life? I would ruin this for you. I would wreck your dream, V.ā
Shaking my head, I pulled her to the back, down the hallway and up the stairs. Once she saw my work, she would understand.
Her breath hitched taking in the largest studio she had probably set eyes on and my god the reality of her being here was sweeter than my fantasies. I loved this place because of the large windows and the natural light that shone through from every direction. Watching my ray of sunshine walk by, she looked ethereal, glowing golden as the sun kissed her rich skin. It was enough to make my knees weak, as if I could collapse at her feet.
She let out a gasp upon seeing it. In the center of the room was my latest painting. It was quite literally the size of my car, and the image I depicted was unmistakable. It was her. It was a masterpiece of swirling brushstrokes that conveyed life and movement. It was her walking ahead of me down a hallway, hand outstretched, reaching for me as she looked over her shoulder with that goddamn perfect smile of hers and captivating eyes. That red lingerie criss-crossing over the planes of her back as her coiled hair bounced with every step.
āItās me,ā she whispered, stepping closer and taking in every detail. The texture of the oil paints, along with the shift in colours as the light hit it from a different angles. The hallway was dark behind her, but she stood out like the sun.
āI started painting this after I met you. That day, I met you in the shop to buy paint. It was for thisāfor the red lace you were wearing. I didnāt have a collection to fill this place until I met you, but now I know exactly what I want to create. You donāt need experience to curate our love Sunshine. There is no one better suited to run this gallery and showcase this work than you. It wouldnāt exist without you. It has to be you.ā
She was stunned, but it didnāt take long for her to compose herself, letting out a slow exhale. She pinned me with a stare that reflected on all I had said.
āFuck it, yes. Absolutely yes!ā she screamed before jumping into my arms. She winced, forgetting about the bruises that lay across her body, but I spun her around anyway, holding her tight. My heart felt full. Everything about her from the second I laid eyes on her, felt so right.
āCome, Iām feeling inspired.ā I dragged her to my sculpting area. I had started carving a piece out of stone inmy spare time. It was her: life-sized and made of soapstone. I chose this stone purposefully due to the softness of it. The morning after I met her, I ordered it in while I thought about how soft her skin had been under my fingers as Iād traced her body.
āI need to know your limits. How much do you want me to share in this collection? How vulnerable and exposed are you willing to be?ā
She smiled, shaking her head. Her response was simple: āEverything.ā
Gently, I pulled the jumper she was wearing above her head, followed by her top. Her skin prickled at the sudden coolness of the air against her bare skin. Kneeling in front of her, I eased her pants down her legs, and she stepped out of them seductively. I had planned to tease her, but somehow she had turned it back on me. Standing, I slid my hand to her back, unclasping her purple bra and watching it fall to the ground. She stood there, bare, with nothing on but her black lace underwear.
Turning, I grabbed my Stanley knife from the nearest table. I slid the blade out slowly click by click. Her breath hitched as her chest rose and fell more quickly as I neared. I traced the back of it up her thigh before pulling the lace away from her skin, cutting through the fabric. I trailed the back of the blade against her stomach and down her hip, watching her shiver as she held her breath. The next cut sent the lace falling to the floor before I clicked the blade shut, dropping it to the floor.
The bruises on her skin looked darker today. More mottled. Anger flashed through me but I knew it wouldnāt be long until I had my hands around the neck of the man that did this. I traced feather-light kisses over every bruise he left on her body and the scrapes on her hands. Hernipples pebbled and it took everything in me to walk away so I could take my place by the stone and look back at her. āYouāre beautiful. So fucking beautiful it hurts sometimes.ā Her cheeks flushed that beautiful colour that left my insides flipping to make it deeper.
She stood there facing me as I carved into the stone with my tools. She didnāt pose; it wasnāt a sensual piece. She knew, just as I did, that this was about power. Her unfiltered power. The hardness she bore to survive. It was raw and honest and required nothing more than for her to simply exist. We lost track of time, and it wasnāt until the sunset and the studio darkened that I realised neither of us had moved for hours. I winced, realising she must be exhausted, but I was too enraptured to notice it until now. Putting my tools down, I looked at herātruly looked now, not with the analytical artistās eye I had been using. Now I was looking at her through the lens of a lover.