Chapter 8: Shadows of the Past
The tension from Lucas's revelation lingered with Aria as she returned to the studio. Her mind buzzed with questions about Eleanor, the painting, and what Lucas wasn't telling her.
As she resumed her work, her hands moved almost automatically, brushing paint onto the canvas with practiced precision. Yet her thoughts were far from the art in front of her.
Why had Lucas trusted her with even a sliver of his past? And why did the woman in the painting feel so eerily familiar?
The Unfinished Painting
Hours later, Aria found herself standing before the unfinished painting again. Despite Lucas's warning, she couldn't help but feel drawn to it. The sorrow radiating from the faceless woman was palpable, as though the canvas itself carried her despair.
Her fingers itched to work on it, to uncover the truth hidden beneath the layers of paint.
"You shouldn't be here."
Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts, low and sharp.
She turned to find him standing in the doorway, his gray eyes dark and unreadable.
"I wasn't—" she began, but he held up a hand to stop her.
"You were," he said, stepping into the room. "This painting is not part of your work. Leave it alone."
"Why won't you tell me the truth?" she demanded, her frustration boiling over. "If this Eleanor was so important to you, why hide her? Why keep this painting locked away?"
Lucas stared at her for a long moment, the tension between them thick enough to cut. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady.
"Because some truths are better left buried," he said. "And if you dig too deep, you might not like what you find."
His words sent a chill down her spine, but she refused to back down.
"Maybe I'm already in too deep," she said quietly. "Maybe it's time you trusted me."
For a moment, she thought he might actually answer her. But then his jaw tightened, and he turned away.
"Get back to work," he said curtly.
A Mysterious Call
Later that evening, as Aria prepared to leave the studio, her phone buzzed. The caller ID was blocked.
"Hello?" she answered hesitantly.
"Miss Sinclair," a male voice said, calm and measured. "I'd advise you to stop asking questions about Eleanor Blackwell."
Her breath caught. "Who is this?"
"Someone who's trying to protect you," the voice replied. "Lucas isn't the man you think he is. Stay out of his affairs, or you'll regret it."
The line went dead.
Aria stared at her phone, her heart pounding. Who was that? How did they know her name?
And most importantly, why was Eleanor Blackwell such a dangerous topic?
Confronting Lucas
The next morning, Aria stormed into Lucas's office, her fear and frustration boiling over.
"Who was Eleanor to you?" she demanded, slamming the door behind her.
Lucas looked up from his desk, his expression cold. "You're overstepping, Aria."
"Someone called me last night," she said, ignoring his warning. "They told me to stay out of your affairs. They mentioned Eleanor."
Lucas's face darkened, and for the first time, she saw something close to fear in his eyes.
"What did they say?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
"Just that I'd regret it if I kept asking questions," she said. "Lucas, what's going on? Who's Eleanor, and why is her name enough to make people threaten me?"
He stood, his presence towering over her. "You don't understand the world you've stepped into," he said. "But you're right about one thing: this is bigger than you, and it's bigger than me."
"Then explain it to me!" she snapped. "Stop keeping me in the dark!"
Lucas hesitated, his fists clenching at his sides. Finally, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Eleanor was my wife," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "She disappeared five years ago under…unusual circumstances. And there are people who don't want me to find out what happened to her."
Aria's breath caught. "Your wife?"
He nodded, his gaze distant. "I've spent years trying to uncover the truth, but every lead I follow only puts more people in danger. That's why I've kept you at arm's length. I won't let anyone else get hurt because of me."
His words hung heavy in the air. For the first time, Aria saw the weight Lucas carried—the guilt, the pain, the loneliness.
"Lucas…" she began, but he shook his head.
"This isn't your fight," he said firmly. "Focus on your work and stay out of the rest. That's the only way I can protect you."
Aria opened her mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped her. He wasn't just trying to protect her—he was trying to protect himself from losing someone else.
For now, she let the subject drop. But deep down, she knew she couldn't ignore the mystery of Eleanor Blackwell.