My hands trembled as I demanded, “You knew how much this painting meant to me. After everything, is my reputation just a stepping stone for her career?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “Is it really that hard to do this one little thing for me? You already know I like her.”
His words cut deep, even though his tone was soft. And for a second, I remembered how, all those years ago, he used to look at me the same way as he whispered, “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you. I promise.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“It’s settled,” he said. “I’ve already booked your flight back home. Once the buzz around Margot dies down, I’ll pay to bury the scandal. It won’t affect your peaceful little retirement.”
“You’ve always wanted to live a quiet, carefree life, right? Just think of this as paying me back. After this, I won’t bother you again.”
After saying that, he walked past me and shut the door with a heavy thud.
I collapsed on the floor, too weak to stay upright.
Outside, Margot Hodges’s sweet voice rang through the hallway. “Darell, do you think Regina’s really that upset? Maybe I should go apologize. I don’t mind if she yells at me or hits me.”
Darell replied, his voice filled with affection. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of everything for you.”
Their voices faded as the pain in my head suddenly spiked. I curled up on the floor, clutching my skull, struggling just to breathe.
He knew what that painting meant to me.
I had spent three long months pouring my soul into it, digging through ten years of memories with him, capturing every little detail that once connected us. I named it "In the Corner of My Eye."
In the shadows of the painting, I had hidden our silhouettes—his and mine—facing away from the world.
He had painted for over a decade. He should have seen it.
My phone buzzed endlessly with news alerts.
At the top of every feed, one headline stood out in bold.
Regina's POV
[Breaking News: Rising art star Regina Macy confirmed guilty of plagiarism.]
The comments section exploded with insults and ridicule. People said I was a bully who had coasted on fame for years, only to steal a rookie artist’s work for my biggest, most talked-about piece.
My social media accounts were overrun. Only a few loyal fans still tried to defend me, clinging to hope, waiting for me to speak up and tell the truth.
But I couldn’t say a single word.