Secrets of the lost past

Chapter 8

I'm definitely sure these times have many more surprises for me than all the people here combined have.

After that failed meeting, I told myself I never had to go to that house ever again, I was never going to experience breathing in its dark and depressing air ever again. I thought I would never have to smell such smells of cigarettes and such strong coffee ever again.

The smell of old paint always seemed to linger through the manor, which is not too amusing. It was filled with a bunch of old paintings after all. And what's actually amusing is that they all look good, regardless of their forbidden age.

How do I suddenly remember it so well? I don't know exactly why, either.

Dimitry's fiance, the one who was horribly bullied that time during our first meeting, definitely one of the most formidable women I've seen in a long time, she was the one who encouraged me to try again. She was the one who encouraged me to try again to win the group's trust one more time, while she was sure the majority of the group would stare at both of us in disgust. That would be the only thing the woman possibly needed in her life, apart from getting bullied every day. To never be trusted again. And it's rather weird how she'd pay to experience that, all for the sake of one stranger. A stranger she doesn't know is close to 100 years younger than her.

She was like a creature of trust that called me back to their place to have another meeting. Hopefully one where nobody screams and rips tablecloths.

That behavior was too childish. We all knew we needed to hurry, or someone's name was going to be dirty for the rest of eternity.

Dimitry's fiance and I knew that I wasn't going to simply walk in and everyone would suddenly act like

nothing's wrong. I was mentally prepared for the worst insults known to man that were going to be thrown at me.

But one thing I didn't prepare for was the thing that still gives me goosebumps.

When we entered the manor, it was much, much quieter than before. No glass cups shattered on the floor, no blood-like wine splattered on the walls. Nothing. Just the quietness of a thing that would change lives forever.

In the manor's prettiest place, the living room, it was exceptionally silent.

The only thing I heard was paint strokes and slight chatter. Don't tell me the walls were getting another painting.

Sadly yes. Dimitry was sitting on a sofa-like chair, trying to keep as still as possible while talking to the painter and Darius.

Darius was leaning on one of the door frames, playing with a cigarette instead of smoking it. He was thinking. Thinking so hard smoking that cigarette barely came to his mind.

-Oh. Apologies for intruding. I forgot the painting date was scheduled for today -Dimitry's fiance said, to which everyone lifted their heads. -Ari, allow me to introduce you to...

She took a break as he tried to remember the painter's name, scanning his face.

-Louis De Sade -the painter said.

-Ah, yes. He's one of the best ones in the industry. And as I remember, he said to bring a plus one.

Dimitry slapped his forehead, knocking one of the decorations over.

-I swear to God, woman. Weren't you here a week ago when I clearly sent her away? If yes, then what is she doing here again?

He adjusted the thing he knocked over, getting back in the position he was in previously.

She shrugged her shoulders, bringing a chair for me to sit down on.

-I thought a week was enough for you to consider that I was overreacting -I said. -I believe you.