Luciano stumbled backward, like the weight of the moment had knocked the breath out of him. Then, with one last gasp of pride, he raised his head and spat venom toward Elliana. “You hid who you were on purpose, didn’t you?” he shouted. “You couldn’t stand me basking in your glory, so you strung me along just to humiliate me. Some legend you are, Rosa-petty and vindictive!”
Elliana, mid-conversation with Clement, slowly turned to Luciano. Her smile was razor-thin and cold as frost. “Luciano,” she said, her voice calm but laced with steel, “whether you were a fan or a parasite doesn’t matter to me. I’m not here to cater to egos-or clean up your mess.” Her voice wasn’t raised, but it struck like a hammer-measured, controlled, and unshakably firm.
“What bothers me,” Elliana said, her eyes locked on Luciano, “isn’t that you climbed the ladder. It’s how you did it. Pretending to understand art, rigging awards, and then flashing those credentials to secure the top spot in the Calligraphers and Painters Association.” She took a step forward, unblinking. “You’ve used that position to crush fresh talent, silence innovation, and polish your ego with other people’s work. Normally, I wouldn’t care. Your dirty games didn’t…”
“Touch me. But then you picked a fight you couldn’t win. And I can’t just let that slide.”
Luciano’s pride wouldn’t let him stay silent. Even with his back to the wall, he bristled. “So what if I’m not your fan?” he snapped. “Yeah, I pulled some strings and played the system. Who hasn’t? Don’t you dare say I don’t know art, I’ve won awards!”
Elliana arched an eyebrow, amused at his defiance. “Oh, right-Golden Plains, wasn’t it?” she said coolly. “That was your magnum opus. How about you recreate just a portion of it? Nothing fancy. Just enough to prove you painted it.”
Luca chuckled, sensing blood. “Excellent idea. Let’s see those legendary brushstrokes in action, Mr. Scott. We’re all eager for a little live demonstration.”
Clement, catching on, gestured to the crew. In moments, a fresh canvas, oils, and brushes were laid out center stage. It was checkmate.
Luciano stiffened, his pulse thudding in his ears. He hadn’t seen this coming-how quickly the tide had turned. Surrounded, exposed, and under the spotlight. Every award he’d ever flaunted was the work of hired talent. If he so much as touched that canvas, the farce would collapse in front of the entire art world.
Luciano didn’t move. Seconds dragged like hours.
Luca tilted his head with mock concern. “What’s the matter? You were so proud a minute ago. Cat got your brush?”
And then-just as the silence thickened-a figure in a black hoodie stepped calmly onto the stage.
Elliana’s expression shifted. Recognition flared in her eyes. Back during the afternoon’s livestreamed workshop-right after Luciano had stormed off in a rage-this same man had returned, like he wanted to reveal some secrets to her, but something had stopped him. He’d vanished again before saying a word.
But now, with the spotlight burning and the stakes sky-high, the man strode onto the stage with purpose in his steps and something heavy in his eyes.
The moment Luciano caught sight of the man, his expression curdled into panic. “Ethan! You better think twice. You open your mouth, and you’ll regret it.”
Ethan Brooks halted mid-step, caught in the heat of Luciano’s glare and threat. His lips parted, but no words came. He looked like a man wrestling with a decision that could crack his entire world open.
Clement stepped forward with practiced calm. “And you are?”
Before Ethan could answer, someone in the crowd blurted, “That’s Luciano’s protege!”
Ethan’s face twisted in disgust. “I am not his protege!” he snapped, his voice cracking with emotion. “He used me. Forced me to go along with his scams. Everything about him is a lie!”
The words exploded across the room, sending shockwaves through the audience. Whispers erupted instantly.
Clement offered Ethan a mic, his voice steady. “You’ve got the floor now. No one here’s going to silence you-not with the whole art world watching. Say what you came to say.”
Luciano’s face turned to stone. “You want to ruin your life, Ethan? Go ahead.”
That venom-laced threat made Ethan visibly recoil. For a breathless moment, it looked like he might fold. But then-slowly-Ethan raised the mic. His hand was trembling, but his eyes had hardened with resolve
As soon as Ethan lifted the mic, silence swept through the room-every face turned toward him, expectant.
Ethan drew in a slow, steadying breath before letting the words pour out. “A decade ago, I walked out of Ublento Art Academy as the top graduate. Rosa was my hero. I had big dreams, ready to shake up the art world-until that scumbag Luciano blindsided me. Luciano was nothing at the time. Just a glorified security guard at the academy, barely literate. But he conned his way into my life, got close to my sister, then kidnapped her and took disgusting, blackmail-worthy photos.”
Ethan’s voice faltered, his jaw tense as he fought to keep his composure.
Gasps rippled through the crowd like a wave of disbelief.
“Wait-Luciano was only a guard? No college degree at all?”
“He kidnapped a girl? Took blackmail photos? That’s beyond messed up.”
“And he fooled everyone into thinking he was a brilliant artist? What a sick fraud!”
The color drained from Paige’s cheeks as the whispers closed in, her breath catching in her throat. She stood frozen, her mind reeling. The man she’d bowed to, flattered, and treated like a legend-just a damn security guard in disguise? The absurdity of it all slammed into her like a punch, and her face flushed hot with shame. Luciano had strung her along like some gullible fool, and now the world had front-row seats to her humiliation.
Paige leveled a seething glare at Luciano, jaw locked, every muscle in her face tight with fury.
But Luciano wasn’t even looking her way-he was too busy calculating his escape, drowning in panic, and blind to the wreckage he’d left behind.
Clement picked up on Luciano’s unease and discreetly motioned to security. Guards moved into position, sealing off every exit from the stage. Luciano was cornered, with nowhere left to run.
Ethan took a breath to steady his voice and pressed on. “Luciano threatened to expose those photos unless I painted for him in secret. If I refused, he swore he’d leak them and destroy my sister’s future. She was only sixteen. I couldn’t let that happen. So I agreed. Every masterpiece he bragged about? That was my work. For a decade, I painted in the shadows while he soaked up the glory.”
I didn’t just paint while Luciano reaped the glory and rose through the ranks of the Calligraphers and Painters Association-he also tormented me behind the scenes, treating me like filth beneath his boots. What cut deeper than the abuse was how he twisted something sacred. He knew how much Rosa meant to me-how her brushwork shaped my own-and he faked devotion to her legacy just to cash in.
Luciano didn’t just ruin my life-he dragged my sister down with me. Watching him exploit my idol for his dirty schemes made my skin crawl. I can’t stay silent any longer. Rosa’s paintings were the only comfort I had in those bleak years-her art kept me breathing through night after night of despair.
At last, Elliana understood why Ethan had lingered near the livestream’s end, torn between speaking up and walking away. Ethan had probably seen Lonely Sunset and finally put the pieces together-she was Rosa. He’d nearly intended to confess everything but lost his nerve, still haunted by Luciano’s grip on him through those damning photos.
Hearing Ethan say her art had saved him-it struck something tender and aching in Elliana’s heart.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.