Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
I shuddered.
Thank God that will not be his future anymore.
I looked down and realized Paolo was painting a large emerald mouse in the center of the town. The creature stood on its hind legs with two stubby front arms sticking out. It reminded me of a scene from Godzilla; however, this mouse smiled over the town's tiny people.
Paolo stepped back and studied the creature.
I smiled.
To my surprise, Paolo sighed in frustration, dipped his brush in more emerald paint, and began making the mouse even bigger.
I widened my eyes.
A true artist and perfectionist.
His brush strokes were bold and skilled as he added thick streaks to the mouse's body and put in a long curvy tail.
Paolo stepped back, blinked at the canvas, and then looked at me. “Mysh.”
I walked over to the mouse and spoke in Russian. “So amazing. A beautiful Mouse.”
“Power.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Wow the mouse is powerful also. Very good.”
Bobbing his head, he went to a moss green color on the palette, dipped his brush in there, and returned to the canvas. “Now Baba.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “We must paint Baba on there too.”
Paolo chuckled and pointed at a man on top of a roof with smoke coming from his hand. “Max.”
“Oh.” Shock hit me. “You got Max in there. We will have to show him.”
His bright expression softened to a stern one and then he pointed to a tiny kitten in the corner of the painting sitting near a house by himself. “Lion.”
“Aww.” I smirked. “Well. . .at least he made it to the painting.”
Paolo began drawing a huge woman next to the mouse. They were the same size, looking like giants in the center of town.
A knock sounded.
I turned around.
The door opened.
Boris ducked his head in, but wouldn't look me in the eye. “Jean-Pierre would like to talk to you, but Kazimir ordered me to not let anyone—”
“Let him in.” I placed the paintbrush down. “It will be fine, Boris. I'll let Kaz know I had him come in.”
Boris nodded and rushed away.
I swallowed.
Kaz clearly said something to him. Boris is being weird.
I thought back to Baba telling Kaz to not kill Boris.
But what did he say to Boris and when did that happen?
I shook my head, knowing I would deal with my lion later.
For now, my only focus was to keep my mind clear and rational before dealing with Fela. Surely, my nerves were frazzled enough. Baba's message had brought me chills. It appeared that Fela and Italy would be finished today, but the darkness. . .
I thought back to earlier.
Baba moved her view to me. “Your future is clouded, Emily.”
“How?”
“If I say too much, you may change things and everything turns horrible.”
I didn't even want to explore what she meant. To do so was to trigger my stomach to twist into knots.
Due to my stressing, Kaz had told me to spend time with Paolo while he gathered everyone together. Once all were prepared and everyone had their orders, then he would get me and we would head to Fela.
And then I would kill him.
Baba's words hit my mind again.
Tears had left her eyes. “I cannot see any more after Fela dies.”
Dread slithered up my spine.
A soft click heralded the door opening.
Jean-Pierre entered, dressed in a black designer suit. He even wore a black shirt. The usual diamond cufflinks were gone.
I quirked my brows. “Are you going to a funeral?”
“I believe so.” Jean-Pierre shut the door behind him, headed over, passed me, and walked over to the canvas. There, he stood for a silent minute, watching Paolo paint the large figure of Baba.
Paolo had done a great job. Her moss green gown flowed out by her hips. She held a jade heart in her hand and wore a huge smile on her face.
Nodding, Jean-Pierre turned around and put his gaze on me. “I am still surprised you kept the boy.”
“Why?”
“One would think that the Lion would have overruled your desire to save this child.”
“Apparently. . .” I shivered. “Lunita had a vote too.”
“Lunita.” Jean-Pierre let out a long breath and then gestured at the opened balcony doors. “Shall we go outside and talk? One would not want to disturb this great artist as he creates his masterpiece.”
I curved my lips into a smile and headed off. “Come on, J.P.”
Following me, Jean-Pierre groaned in annoyance. “Perhaps, your nickname for me could be Jean. Still close to my name, yet possessing more style.”
I stepped onto the balcony. “Naw. J.P. rings out better.”
“Does it though?”
“Most definitely.” I stepped close to the railing and gazed out at the view.
Sun sparkled on the water, making everything appear like a living painting. For a few seconds, I was mesmerized by this natural beauty.
Yet, I knew the tranquility of the moment was just an illusion in my reality. Everything appeared calm as if this were a regular day, but it wasn't. This day would change everything.