Chapter 146: Chatty Couple
Kitten: How did we meet two years ago?
I eyed the text for a while before my fingers moved, tapping against the screen.
Me: That’s not a conversation I’d have with you over the phone.
Kitten: You’re right.
The dots came up.
Kitten: When are you coming home?
Home. She called the manor... home. A smile tugged on my lips.
Me: Soon, kitten.
The dots came up and disappeared, but I waited, knowing she had more to say. Just as I predicted, the dots popped up and a minute passed.
Kitten: Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to disappear? To somewhere far away and isolated. Away from everything and everyone.
Goosebumps rose on my skin as a sense of déjà vu gripped me. This was just like two years ago; she said this exact thing to me. Word for word, and I replied to her the same way I did that day.
Me: Always, darling. But consider seats for two because if you wanna disappear, I’ll be there with you.
After replying, I sent a text to another number. Pushing to my feet and tucked my phone inside my pocket as I left the office. I was done for the day.
I knew Elliot was gonna handle the rest. Anastasia needed me right now. She won’t say it, but I could feel it.
I pushed the button and got into the elevator. I waited for a while before the doors slid open and I stepped out.
I was greeted as I headed toward the exit, but I paid them no heed. The car drove by at that instant, and my chauffeur stepped out and opened the door for me to get in.
I pulled out my phone and unlocked it, smiling when I saw my little kitten’s text.
Kitten: Why does that sound familiar?
Me: How so?
Kitten: It feels like you have told me something like that before. Have you?
Me: What are you doing right now?
I changed the topic. There was a long pause before she replied.
Kitten: Nothing...
That sounded more like a thought than a firm answer. That brat is up to something.
Me: Send me a picture of you doing nothing.
Kitten: What if I’m in the toilet or something?
Me: I think we have passed that bridge, haven’t we? Picture. Now.
I could tell she was nervous and possibly gulping right now.
A minute later, a picture was sent.
I tilted my head. She snapped it as a selfie, but her hair got in the way so I couldn’t see her face no matter how much I zoomed, so my eyes traced the rest of her.
Fuck me. She’s wearing my dress shirt.
I gritted my teeth, my once amused gaze transforming into feral hunger.
She sat on the floor, legs crossed, giving me the full view of her thighs. And my fingers itched as though I could swipe through and remove the rest of the material covering her up.
Was she wearing panties?
Seems like I would have the answer to my question when I got home.
Then my eyes caught something; I zoomed in and saw what looked like a sketchbook. My sketchbook.
She was in my studio.
Interesting. I was certain I locked the door before I left. A deep chuckle rolled off me as I typed.
Me: Naughty girl. How did you get into my room?
Kitten: I picked the locks.
I’ll be damned.
Kitten: Something I learned from Luca.
Me: What else did you learn from that idiot?
Kitten: Don’t call him an idiot!
Me: Defending? I thought you couldn’t stand him.
Kitten: The idiot is growing on me.
Me: Who’s the one calling him an idiot now?
Kitten: Haha.
I was amused as I stroked my jawline slowly, watching the dots swirl, but then it stopped, and no text came through again.
When the car came to a stop, I got out and walked into the manor. The sound of my shoes echoed through the air until another noise made me stop in my tracks.
A high-pitched screech.
I threw a look over my shoulder and found Caleb. He was watching me, but for a while before he wheeled away.
He never leaves the library at this hour. If anything, he doesn’t like anyone seeing him.
The screech faded away, and I resumed my walk, heading straight for my room.
I unlocked the door and got in. I took off my tie and suit jacket, tossing them at the bed. I walked into my closet, rolling the sleeves of my shirt up my arms as I neared the open door leading to my studio.
Never in my life did I imagine that door would be opened by anyone except me. This place was exclusive to me. A place I came to whenever I needed to do something different.
At first it began as random sketches and rubbing paints on canvases, but after Anastasia brought colors to my life, everything changed.
Every time I picked up the pencil or held a brush, it was all about her. I couldn’t get her out of my head, and the last two years I spent painting her endlessly.
I walked in and closed the door behind me. Then I saw her, on the floor just like the picture. She was flipping through the sketchbook.
They were all about her and nothing else. I could only imagine the look on her face when she took hold of it.
At least she wasn’t running away. She could have, the moment I showed her this place, but she can’t do that.
Anastasia was just like me. Our obsession was intertwined.
Suddenly she stiffened when she discerned me, throwing a look over her shoulder. A soft gasp fled from her as she pushed to her feet, and I got a glimpse of her bare ass before she pulled down the shirt to cover up.
She pulled her hair behind her ears. It had gotten lengthy and needed a little trim.
"I-I didn’t know you’d be back so early," she said nervously.
"I had a feeling you needed me."