Page 43 of Vintage

"To think she would go to such lengths to cultivate two plant species that would struggle to survive in the climate and location she chose for them, I can’t believe her intentions are merely simple or selfish. If she has subjected Amir to these toxins for so long... Damn it... What does she even want from him?" Darius shouted, slamming his hands on the table as he rose, kicking his chair aside and pacing back and forth.

Ace ignored his outburst and set the chair back in place, though he too appeared worried, knowing that Willow could easily harm Ro if she wished.

"My next question is, who is this, Willow? Did you find any information about her?" Dimitri redirected our focus to the critical points we needed to address beyond our emotional distress.

Reginald pulled out his phone and opened a document.

"Nothing surprising. Just an artist who grew up in an orphanage, has no friends or adoptive family, and is a psycho painter. She doesn’t even have anagent. She lived in Nevada before moving to Willow Crest." He glanced up from the document, a frown forming on his forehead.

"That’s way too brief. How can someone at her level lack a social life? No matter how you look at it, if you’re making a living by appealing to people, you have to put yourself out there. Selling at her level without an agent or any public presence is strange," Reese remarked, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

Ace retrieved the file I had kept there, and I quickly snatched it from his grasp. I knew it was impolite, but I couldn’t shake off Ro’s message that lingered in my mind.

"I need to make a call to this number," I said, as I picked up my phone, and dialed.

The phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

No response.

On the fourth ring, someone finally answered.

"Hello, Montgomery residence. How can I assist you?" It sounded like a member of the household staff.

"Hi, this is Amery Rowan, Amir Rowan's wife. Could I please speak with Mr. Montgomery?" My nerves were getting the best of me, and I felt a tightness in my chest.

I couldn't shake off the memory of what I had read about the dragon sculpture and how Ro had stressed the importance of calling this specific number.

The line went silent for a moment, but after a few seconds, a deeper voice came through, sounding older, likely around my father's age.

"This is Elijah Montgomery. How may I assist you, Mrs. Rowan?" His tone was overly courteous for someone who had invested so much time and money into a project.

"Hello, Mr. Montgomery. I truly apologize for the issues regarding your commissioned artwork on behalf of my husband." I glanced around at those nearby, who were waiting patiently as I continued.

"Not a problem, Mrs. Rowan. I understand your circumstances, and Amir has already returned me the advance payment. I did tell him that if he could complete the piece, I would purchase it." There was a hint of joy in his voice.

I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the deal was still intact.

"I'm sure my husband feels the same way, and once he finishes his current projects, I will encourage him to complete the sculpture. By the way, Mr. Montgomery, I need to ask you about something personal that only you canclarify for me." Taking a deep breath, I crossed my fingers, hoping he would be willing to share.

"Of course. What do you need help with?"

"It's regarding the inscription on the sculpture. In loving memory of my wife, Willow. Can you tell me where your wife is at this moment?" As I spoke, everyone around me looked taken aback. I had felt just as stunned yesterday.

I could hear him swallowing hard on the other end of the line, and it didn’t bode well.

"She’s gone. Last year, we were on a flight to America to see Amir at his exhibition in LA when she suffered a heart attack mid-air and passed away instantly."

I pressed my lips together, feeling my own heart skip a few crucial beats.

"I’m truly sorry for your loss. May she rest in peace... If it’s not too much trouble, could you share some more details about your wife? Perhaps a photo, if possible?" My breath quickened, my heart racing beyond its usual rhythm. I was apprehensive about learning more than I already knew, but for Ro’s sake, I needed to gather as much information as I could.

"I’m not sure why you’re asking all this, but since Amir was my wife’s favorite, I’ll share. Willow was a passionate artist, born and raised in Willow Crest. She later moved to Nevada with her first husband, Amir’s cousin. After he passed away, she met me during a trip to an auction in Egypt, and the rest is history."

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