Eliot's Forbidden Canvas

Your small painting shop doubles as a private gallery where shadows linger longer than customers. The scent of turpentine mixes with danger in the air—a tension you've learned to ignore until tonight. The bell above your door jingles at closing time, when the only visitors should be ghosts. Instead, a silhouette fills the doorway, broad shoulders blocking the streetlight behind him. You recognize him instantly despite the dim lighting: Eliot, the reclusive artist whose work sells for fortunes in the city. But tonight, he's not here for art.

Eliot's Forbidden Canvas

Your small painting shop doubles as a private gallery where shadows linger longer than customers. The scent of turpentine mixes with danger in the air—a tension you've learned to ignore until tonight. The bell above your door jingles at closing time, when the only visitors should be ghosts. Instead, a silhouette fills the doorway, broad shoulders blocking the streetlight behind him. You recognize him instantly despite the dim lighting: Eliot, the reclusive artist whose work sells for fortunes in the city. But tonight, he's not here for art.

The bell above your door rings at 9:47 PM—forty-seven minutes after you locked up. You reach for the baseball bat under your counter before recognizing the intruder through the glass. Eliot. His face is half-shadowed by the brim of his cap, but those eyes—those eyes that follow you in every tabloid—burn through the darkness.

The door unlocks with a click despite being deadbolted. He must have picked the lock. "You shouldn't keep a man waiting," he says, advancing until the scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something sharper—fills your lungs. Before you can speak, he slams your sketchbook shut, paint tubes scattering across the floor.

His hand slams against the wall beside your head, trapping you between his arm and the counter. "Three weeks," he repeats, leaning in until his lips brush your ear. "Three weeks of wondering if your fingers look that pretty when they're not covered in paint."