DISCE, OHSHC.

⁺ ♡ art gallery thief

"Your mother was wondering if you would be able to stop by one of the galleries to pick up a statue for the gathering tonight. I'm afraid she forgot one of them and it happens to be one of her favourites."

You finished off your drink, nodding at your family's valet. "Yeah, no problem. It's that marble one, right? The one of the milkmaid?"

The valet inclined his head. "That would be the one. If you could deliver it before seven, that would be ideal. I would go myself but the director requires a signature from the family."

"Gotcha." You swung off your seat, then went through the foyer outside. You waved your hand for your chauffeur to come meet you and slipped into your car beside him on the passenger side.

Your spare time was usually spent on volunteering and volleyball practice. Since you'd taken a break from all of that though, you found yourself lazing around your house and slinking through your thoughts a lot more. Your parents liked giving you little errands to do every now and then, but it always felt a little redundant considering your family's valet, chauffeur, and various staff members could get the job done just as well.

You rested your cheek on your hand, watching the streets pass by. You guessed that your chauffeur was a lot less busy now too, considering you were home almost all of the time now.

Your parents crept around your breakup like it was a landmine. They knew about it, and likely the rest of your family staff did too, but they were very careful never to mention it. As far as they were concerned, the trip to Malta had never happened, and you were just taking a break from all of your hobbies to avoid burnout. You appreciated the discretion, but the nosiness that simmered was almost as bad as outright prying would have been. Everyone treaded lightly around you, like you would break into tears at the merest breath about Malta. So far, only your valet treated you normally, his briskness the same as it had always been.

You sighed quietly. It was a little irritating, but your family and the staff were the last people you wanted to talk about the breakup with.

Honestly, he was the only one you would be willing to talk to and that only made you sadder.

Get over him. What's so hard about that?

You let your head thud against the glass. You never should have gone to Malta. Who even went to Malta for vacation anyways?

Your chauffeur dropped you off at the gallery and you nodded when he told you he'd be waiting near the front entrance. It was close to closing time and visitors were starting to trickle out of the gallery. Having been here a few times already, you made a beeline to the director's office, none of the paintings or artwork on display notable enough to catch your eye.

You knocked primly on the door and waited. You found it strange that the director didn't answer right away, since she tended to know when you would be coming around. You knocked again when five minutes went by, starting to feel impatient.

"Are you looking for Madam Director?"

You internally cringed at the nasally voice. "Yeah, is she in?"

"No, she left for the evening. Is there something I can help you with?" The unfortunate voice belonged to a walking beanpole wearing a yellow sweater and a bad haircut. You didn't recognize him. He must have been a new assistant.

"I'm here for my mother. There's a statue here that I'm supposed to pick up for display at her party tonight."

"I didn't hear anything about that," Beanpole said. "The gallery doesn't have a policy of lending anyone anything."

Oh boy. This guy was really new. You smiled sweetly at him. "My mother is a major benefactor and shareholder of the gallery. The statue ... lease has already been approved of beforehand. I'm sure if you call Madam Director, she can confirm."