Page 28 of Stalked

I raise an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. “Complete control?”

“Absolute. I provide the space and the funding. You provide the vision.”

“And the catch?”

Elliot smiles, a flash of something calculating in his eyes. “The catch, Ms. Morgan, is that you'd have to return to Ravenwood.”

I swallow hard. “I left Ravenwood for a reason.”

“We all have pasts we've run from,” he says smoothly. “But perhaps it’s time to stop running.”

“The salary?—”

“Will be double your current compensation.” He names a figure that makes me blink. “Plus performance bonuses based on sales.”

I stare at him, momentarily speechless. That kind of money would pay off my student loans within a year. It would mean financial freedom I hadn't anticipated for another decade.

“Why me?” I finally ask. “Why not a local curator?”

“Because Ravenwood needs fresh blood, Ms. Morgan. And you need a challenge worthy of your talents.”

I take a deep breath, turning away from Elliot to look out the gallery window. The biggest issue with Ravenwood isn't the small-town mentality or the lack of culture; it's the lack of diversity.

It's Vane Blackwood.

The man I fled from fifteen years ago has only grown in power since then. According to Megan's regular updates—which I pretend not to care about—the Blackwood Brothers practically own Ravenwood now. Xavier runs the legitimate businesses, Landon handles politics, Knox manages their nightclub empire, and Vane... Vane handlesproblems.

Whatever that means.

I've blocked him on every platform for years, but curiosity got the better of me last month. One innocent search turned into an hour-long deep dive through public photos. The tall and athletic boy from high school has transformed into something else entirely—a beast of a man with intricate tattoos crawling up his forearms, disappearing beneath fitted shirts that barely contain the muscles beneath. His jawline, always sharp, now sports a permanent stubble that would feel incredible against my thighs as he?—

No. Absolutely not. I refuse to go there.

“Ms. Morgan?” Elliot's voice pulls me back to reality. “I understand your hesitation.”

“It's complicated,” I reply. “I left Ravenwood for good reasons.”

Elliot studies me. “Most young talents leave small towns. What matters is that you've built something remarkable since then.”

I cross my arms, buying time to frame an answer that doesn't involve green eyes and possessive hands. “I've spent fifteen years establishing myself in New York. My professional network is here. My life is here.”

“Networks extend. Lives evolve.” His tone remains neutral, but I detect a hint of amusement. “The art world is smaller than people think.”

I gesture around the gallery. “I've worked hard for this position. Starting over in Ravenwood means rebuilding everything I've accomplished.”

“Not starting over. Expanding.” Elliot moves toward the window, looking out at the Manhattan skyline. “Your reputation precedes you, Ms. Morgan. You wouldn't be returning as the girl who left. You'd be returning as the woman who conquered New York.”

The distinction matters more than he realizes. Still, the thought of walking those familiar streets again, knowing who controls them now...

“I have... history there that I've deliberately left behind.” I choose my words carefully. “Small towns have long memories.”

“Ah.” Elliot nods as though he understands, though he couldn't possibly. “Personal entanglements can be challenging. But I assure you, the professional opportunity outweighs any... awkward reunions.”

If only he knew how much more thanawkwardit would be.

“I appreciate the offer, Mr. Chambers. Truly. But returning to Ravenwood isn't as simple as accepting a job offer.”

“Few worthwhile things are simple, Ms. Morgan.”