Page 108 of Chandelier Sin
In the corner stood a full-length mirror. My awed reflectionstared back at me as I carried my guilt, full of dread that no good would come from this obsession.
This was wrong.
It feels so right.
I wanted to be closer to him, even if I was risking everything.
I looked around for a pen and a piece of paper. I’d leave him a note. Hopefully, he’d see my commitment and understand that I’d risked everything coming here.
I noticed the painting above his headboard, a portrait of a standalone tub by Banksy.
I knew of the artist. He’d auctioned off a painting at Christie’s. Right after the hammer came down in the sale to the highest bidder, the canvas shredded itself within its gold frame, leaving everyone in the auction house horrified. The artworld was shaken. It didn’t surprise me that Atticus loved Banksy. They were both rebellious, both wanting to leave the world a better place.
Or maybe it was merely boyish mischief.
A soprano’s voice rose from hidden speakers. I froze as the fine hairs on my forearms prickled. The music set the scene for drama and intrigue, mingled with the worst kind of danger.
He knows.
A chill shot up my spine. “Atticus?”
A disembodied voice answered. “What are you doing in my home?”
Scanning the room, I tried to work out where the speakers were located.
“Eve.”
From the clock.
“I’m here.”
“I can see that.”
“Your clock…?”A camera?
He tutted. “Did your husband send you?”
“He doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Right.”
“I came to warn you.”
“Torment me?”
“Why would I do that?”
“You have my number. That’s the usual way people reach out.”
I was swallowed up by doubt. “I’ll leave.”
“No, you won’t. Not now.”
“I’m sure this doesn’t look good.”
“How did you get in?”
“Sliding door.”
