The frigid liquid slid down my throat with ease, quenching the aridness that had my throat feeling sore. I gulped it down, desire chasing me faster the more and more I drank it.
Tonight's solo exhibition went well. Though we didn't speak to Aria much after the first interaction, the time seemed to be well spent. She looked to be focused on everyone else — the sea in the room. How they critiqued her work, and how they looked upon it. She looked to just be drinking in everything from the dark, whilst smiling upon others' compliments. Every time someone tried striking up a conversation with her, she always kept it short and sweet — something I'd noticed from afar.
My thoughts were cut short by a soft ring that pierced the air. I looked down at my phone to see a familiar name read across the screen.
'Daniel (Security Manager)'
I picked up the phone and slid the button on the screen. I lifted the phone to my ears to hear a shaky, panicky voice hit me.
"Mr. Zane! We've found an art piece missing on patrol tonight!"
I slammed the glass down before me, the harsh sound of it clashing with the marble countertop. I frowned.
"Say that again." I felt my brows slowly begin to crease.
"A piece went missing, Sir." His voice was slightly panicked, but cut and dry.
My mouth went dry. Heat curdled my blood, yet my skin took in the cold air around me like no other. The air slithered up my skin, nearly sending shivers across my body.
"Follow procedures." I sounded even rougher than before.
"Yes, Sir."
I removed the phone from my ear and quickly hung up. I slid it in my pocket and made my way upstairs. New thoughts began roaming my mind, circling me like ominous black birds in the sky.
I approached her closed door. It was almost intimidating. I raised my hand to knock on it but hesitate for a second. Then I just went for it.
Nothing.
I knocked again, but louder and harder. Vaguely, behind the door, I could hear her groan. Silence follows for a few seconds before the door swings open to reveal her. Her raven hair was disheveled. Her lips plump as usual. But her face sagging. Her brows scrunched. I saw the red that was slowly turning her skin pink the longer I stood here.
I could hardly find the care within me.
"I don't really care if you're pissed off right now," I started. "A piece just went missing at the gallery."
She perked up immediately and her eyes flew wide. Her brows perked too, and her skin turned even more pink.
"What?" Astonishment hung in her soft and slightly raspy voice.
"You heard me."
She dragged her hand roughly through her hair. Then her fist closed in it, a clump of hair trapped between her fingers. I cocked a brow at her reaction, but I let it go. The gallery was something we both cared about. It shouldn't be unusual to me to see her care for it showing. But still, seeing any hint of her softness struck me somewhere I couldn't quite name. And I didn't really want to dig deeper.
"We need to go down there right now." She looked at me matter-of-factly. Her brows angled downwards even more.
"It can wait 'til morning. The security will follow procedure as they should."
"Then why fucking tell me about it now, dipshit?!" Her brows collided with her eyes. Her milky skin turned beet red.
"Because I don't want a whiny brat screaming in my ear in the early goddamn morning!" I retorted, returning her anger equally matched. My blood was ready to boil. My head already began pinching my brain the more I looked at her and took in her words.
"We're going down there tonight. End of story." Her lips pressed into a firm line, and her eyes narrow.
"Yeah, whatever you fucking say, princess," I threw the snide and sarcastic remark her way. I ran a hand through my hair and turned around immediately, ignoring the appalled look on her face and the way her skin suddenly went pale. I felt the steam creeping up on my back as I walked away, but I paid no mind to it and showed myself to my room.
I had no time for her fucking antics. If she wanted to go, then fine. Bitch.
Something pinched me inside.
You're better than this, Niko. No need to call her a bitch.
I almost couldn't believe the direction my mind went, but still, heat warmed me underneath. I took a deep breath. Almost instantly, some relief found its way to me, then I let the cold breath go.
I grabbed a set of clothes from my closet without much thought. A dark gray sweatshirt, and a pair of black jeans. I threw on the pair and rolled up my sleeves a little. I then put on a pair of black boots and tied the laces as quickly and efficiently as possible. The last thing I wanted to hear was her screaming for me to hurry up, even though I'd just left her mere moments ago.
I began stirring in my head. What piece could have been stolen? We've never had such an occurrence ever since the opening of the gallery. There have been attempts, but none successful. They never went missing. We had good and tight security, twenty-four seven. Araenia-Ilona, especially, would never let the gallery get away with slack security.
I hoped this would just be open and shut, but I couldn't cool the warmth inside me that heated my skin as I thought about the fact that one of our prized possessions had now gone missing.
I sighed and stood up. I quickly swiped my car keys from my dresser and left the room. I noticed Ilona's door was ajar, so I just went downstairs. There, I found her waiting by the door in a simple, black, flowing dress and ankle boots—something very out of the norm from her closet that I've seen. Her hair was still slightly tussled, but more presentable than it looked upon her opening her jarring door.
"Took you long enough," she sarcastically remarked.
"Don't get me fucking started, Araenia." I shot a sharp glance her way before walking past her and out the door. I heard her boots stomping boldly against the concrete as she followed behind me outside.
The car chimed twice as I unlock it with the key fob and then got in the driver's side. My temper slowly began building on itself when she entered the passenger seat. I frowned in an attempt to keep my irritation to myself and not burst.
How the hell did we come to be?
I started the car and pushed my thoughts to the side. It wasn't worth my sanity to ponder any longer.
—
We entered the building together. We didn't miss the red and blue lights that flashed outside. It blinded me upon seeing it. I had to blink rapidly once I tore my eyes from the sight to gain back my right vision.
As soon as we stepped in and took in the scene before us—police on the ground floor talking to security and the doors instantly locking smartly behind us—Araenia took off towards the stairs over on the opposite side of the gallery's ground floor. I watched her with confusion winding my mind.
What the hell is she doing?
I tore my eyes off her figure as she disappeared around a corner upstairs and, instead, focused on the scene at hand. I approached Daniel who was speaking to an officer with a notepad in his hand.
"What was stolen?" I interrupted — though the officer was busy writing something on the notepad, so I took the chance to invade the temporary silence.
"Heaven's Precious Angel by Alesi Crow," Daniel responded.
Damn it.
His face was as frantic as my head, but we were both trying to keep strong façades. My head began pounding even more. I attached my hands to my hips and stepped away from the two, trying to keep my aggravation as close to bay as possible. Looking around, staff on duty this night hung about in the main lobby with officers going around and questioning each of them. Standard procedure. After all, the doors were locked. There should've been nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. I whipped my head around and looked at the empty staircase in the far distance.
Where the hell did she go? She needs to get her ass here right, goddamn now, for goodness' sake!
I raised my face to the ceiling. Dim light flowed out from the recessed lights affixed in it above. I closed my eyes and breathed in, feeling my lungs expand with the newfound weight. I begged for peace to come into me, suffuse me, and take me clean. My efforts were going to waste, so I tried again. I breathed in, then out. But my heart only began rapping in my chest. It became the only thing I could focus on, like blood rushing in my ears.
Finally, my irritation reached its peak. With no clue of what to do next with myself, I turned on the balls of my heels and began storming off in the direction of the staircase. I stormed up it and went around the corner I saw her turn.
"Araenia!" I shout her name. No answer.
"Araenia-Ilona Ivers Frost Hunter Zane!" I called her name even louder. I couldn't care less whether or not those downstairs could hear my booming voice.
"Catching names like fucking Pokémon," I spoke, mainly to myself, feeling the irritation scraping at my walls. "Should've just kept my damn last name as your only. Who the fuck—"
My personal banter cut short as I heard shuffling coming from her office. I pushed through the door open ajar. It slowly turned itself back as it should've, until it was left in the same ajar position it was when I came in.
"Ilona?" I called out for her. She was nowhere to be seen. I looked around the room to see a bright, white light coming from an open space; its opening was tall and rectangular, like a door, but no door stands in sight. White walls, in contrast to the warm tan that was the big tiles on the walls of the rest of the office, shows from behind the opening.
Since when did a room get there?
She then appeared from the room. She placed her whole hand on the wall next to it, and a door turns around from the corner I couldn't see and shut. It fit perfectly in with the rest of the wall.
What the hell?
"What are you doing?" I ignored the secret room and focused on her. Vibrant, grey eyes stared back at me. Her face seemed definitely more relaxed than when we'd left the house. But there was this certain look about her features in this moment I couldn't decipher.
"Don't worry about it." She folded her arms and averted her gaze for a second before finding mine again.
"One of our paintings went missing and you're up here in some secret room doing what, Ilona?" My brows creased; I felt the crumple begin to hurt my forehead.
"And mind you," I interrupted her before she could respond. "It's one from our long-term, highly established artists."
"Who is it?" Finally, she seemed to care. Her tight arms loosened a little and her eyes softened as she looked at me.
"Alesi Crow."
Her arms fell. Her mouth opened slightly, hanging there for a moment.
"Tell me you're lying." Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine.
"Why would I lie about something like that, Araenia?" My blood finally cooled a little. I could at least let my shoulders relax.
I was supposed to be in my bed—sleeping. Not dealing with this. This only called for an intensity tomorrow I had to put my mind towards. I could hardly grasp anything that was happening right now. All of it just felt to be slipping through my fingers the more I tried to hold onto it. And frankly, I just wanted peace. I couldn't handle the turmoil that roiled within me right now — a mix of emotions I could worry about facing tomorrow.
"Which piece of hers?"
"Heaven's Precious Angel."
She cocked a brow, and her forehead creased. "Why that one?"
I cocked my brow. "What's wrong with it?" Does it even matter which one?
"We just put up one of her most recent ones only close to a year ago. And even then, Heaven's Precious Angel isn't her most popular. It's outstanding, certainly, as are all her paintings. But if I'm thinking about stealing a valuable painting of hers, out of all the ones we have here, I wouldn't pick Heaven's Precious Angel."
I looked down and away in thought, slowly nodding. She was right. We had so many of her most famous pieces. Seven of them, to be exact. Out of all of them, Heaven's Precious Angel definitely wasn't the most valuable, nor the one that stood out the most.
What was this then — practice? Just a mockery?
After a moment of silence, a deep voice interrupted, "Mr. and Mrs. Zane? Is it possible we can check the security cameras right now?"
I turned around to come face-to-face with the officer who now stood in the doorjamb.
"Of course. Follow me."