bChapter /bb17 /b

70%

+20)

Meanwhile, at Cole Manor, Liam strode up to the fourth floor, his sharp eyesnding on a heavy door, locked tight. “Why’s this sealed shut?” he asked, his

voice clipped.

Lucy, the housekeeper, nced nervously at the door. “That’s Madam’s training room. No one’s allowed in except for cleaning.”

Liam’s jaw tightened, his tone turning icy. “Open it. Now.”

Lucy scrambled with the keys, and the door swung open, a cool breeze slipping in from the towering windows.

Liam smoothed his hair back and stepped inside, his boots clicking tap–tap–tap against the polished floor.

The room was a fitness junkie’s wet dream: Roman chair, treadmill, butterfly machine, barbells–every piece top–tier and clearly broken in.

Liam’s gaze swept over the setup, a flicker of approval sparking in his

est. He had no patience for women who squandered money on pointless toys.

A heavy punching bag angle in th center, fed boing gloves to

Aria’s a boxer?‘ he thought, his brow arching.

d nearby.

To the side, a wooden board leaned against the wall. Curious, Liam stepped closer–and froze.

The thing was peppered with needle marks, so dense it made his skin crawl. ‘What the hell was she

up to?‘ he wond

He waved Lucy over. “Rip this board out. It’s creepy as hell. And chuck everything else in here. Rece it all, same models, same specs.”

He’d scoped out the gym gear already–everything was high–end, the best the best.

Hannah lived for boxing, and he thought this ce was like it was built just for her.

Lucy’s face twisted with worry. “Sir, Madam’s gear is custom–made. 1 don’t know the models.”

“No paperwork?” Liam snapped, his patience fraying.

Lucy’s eyes lit up. “Actually, there’s a list! Hang on.”

Five minutester, she handed him a folder. Liam’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “Thirty million? She blew 30 million on this stuff? What ba /bfreaking money pit!”

Lucy shrank back, biting her lip. She wanted ito /imention Aria had paid for it herself, but Liam’s scowl shut her up fast.

Liam’s chest burned, but he forced a deep breath. “Fine. Just ditch the board. Keep the rest, but get bit /bcleaned up. I want it looking like it just rolled off the factory line.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy mumbled, darting off.

Liam kept wandering, pausing when he spotted a few paintings in the guest bedroom. “These hers too?” he asked, his voice low and taut.

“Yes, sir. She brought them here,” Lucy said softly./

Liam’s eyes narrowed, a scoff slipping out. “She/hauls home every piece bof /btrash she finds, doesn’t bshe/bb?/bb” /b

He reached for one of the paintings, ready to have it tossed, when his gaze caught a bold, swirling signature in the corner: b[/bMono.]

His breath hitched. He eased the painting back onto the wall, leaning in close.

Three pieces an old bman’s /bweathered face, a flock of birds in flight, a misty mountain ridge all bsigned /bMono.

b1/2 /b

15:08

Mon, 26 May MT.

Mono, the reclusive genius painter, was a legend, his stark realist works coveted across the globe. His pieces were worth a fortune, fought over by collectors with bottomless wallets.

70%

+20)

Twenty years ago, at just fifty, he’d dropped off the map. A decadeter, he resurfaced with Caged Girl, a dark, soul–shaking masterpiece that turned the art world upside down.

Someone threw 1.3 billion at it; Mono didn’t even blink. After that, he went quiet again.

Whispers spread that he’d taken a secret apprentice, passing Caged Girl to them.

Mono didn’t take students, only offered guidance to a select few. People had been obsessed with unmasking his disciple for years, but ino /ione got close.

‘Aria with three Mono paintings? No freaking way. Those have gotta be knockoffs,‘ Liam thought, his mind racing.

Framed and wless, the paintings stared back at him. Liam’s pulse raced.

He’d seen Mono’s work before, and these–the brushwork, the raw energy, the signatures–felt too real.

“Are these copies iby /ihis apprentice? Does Aria know them?‘ His mind churned, questions stacking up like storm clouds as he stood in the hushed room.