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“You need to take care of yourself too.” Agnes sat back and crossed her arms. “What’s this thing about you getting engaged? Why didn’t you tell me? I heard from Gigi.”

Fuck.

“Sorry.” I raked a hand through my hair. “It’s been a whirlwind, and I forgot to tell you.”

“I can see that. Your mom called me the other day, wondering if I knew anything. She wanted details.” Sheuncrossed her arms and lifted her cup of tea. “When will I get to meet Nessa?”

“Soon.”

“I met her during her art exhibit here. She’s articulate, friendly, and very attractive.” Agnes sipped her tea. “But be careful. Those qualities are often masks for people who want something from you, Attikus. You’re a wealthy and powerful man.”

I appreciated her protectiveness more than she knew. My mom’s friends had become motherly figures, ensuring I didn’t take the wrong path.

If only Agnes knew what was between Vanessa and me.

“Do I look like a man who could be swindled?”

“Usually, no.” She smirked. “But when an attractive and talented woman is in the mix, things can get blurry. Don’t want you going blind.”

I finished my tea. “Well, it’s a wonderful thing I have you and Mom Gigi to make sure I won’t go blind.”

“Smart answer.” She smiled. “I updated the lock to your safe room.”

Agnes and Joseph were the only two people who entered that room. She had access to ensure it stayed clean. He had access to record all my precious treasures and ensure the place was dust-free.

“Thank you.”

After a few more minutes, Agnes left. I walked down to the lower level to The Gathering, a safe room that held all my precious belongings and where I conducted my extensive research on Ashton C. Lindor.

I punched in the code, pressed my palm against the screen, and aligned my eye with the scanner to verify my identity. The sensor lights illuminated as I stepped onto the marble floor.

The safe room was made of poured concrete, concrete blocks, high-density steel, ballistic fiberglass, and Kevlar. It had a bulletproof door. The top-notch safe room had all the extra amenities in case of a dangerous storm. I was prepared for an apocalypse. Cameras inside the room linked to a recording I could access anywhere in the world. When I had it built, I needed a place to store my valuable items while I searched for my enemy. Now, there was a separate suite for me to sleep, eat, and bathe in when I didn’t want to drive home. I didn’t realize it would take me this long to find the fucker.

Who was helping him hide? I wouldn’t rest until I found him. This search had consumed me for so long that I didn’t know what else to do with my life.

Until Vanessa.

She was the distraction I didn’t know I needed.

Walking into the office, I sat down and turned on my computer. I glanced up, and my eyes landed on the illustration that had started everything—the beginning and ending all in one.

I got out of the chair and ambled over, standing in front of The Cozy Family Restaurant ad that had won me a scholarship and cash.

This pen and ink artwork had taken weeks to become a final version. I’d enjoyed every moment of it. It was a magical experience to get lost in the creative process. Right now, working on Level Seven was the only thing that got me close to that magical feeling.

My wrist ached, and the muscles in my leg throbbed.

“Stop.” I scolded my body for responding to the memory of the fateful day.

I read somewhere that the body’s cells could remember trauma. I believed it. The body produced certain chemicals as a response to fear, anger, and joy. The emotions and pain I’dendured that day were a colossal energy that had infiltrated into my cellular memory.

This was why I couldn’t heal from it.

I walked over to my wall of paintings, which ranged in value from a few hundred to millions of dollars. But I didn’t measure their worth based on those numbers. They were all gained at various stages of my life.

I ran a finger down the water lily painting from Nessa Lambert. I bought the 11” x 17” painting years ago. It was a raw painting with no varnish, resin, or other protective coatings. The painting had no title either.

I was drawn to the bleeding water lily because I could feel its pain. Exceptional art could reach into you and rearrange your bodily systems, touching you in ways nothing else could. That painting was the first artwork to do that to me.