The world bustled with endless comings and goings, yet every person’s heart remained an isolated island, untouchable and unreachable.
Since childhood, Mia had lived in the shadow of this solitude. The busier and noisier her surroundings, the more acutely she felt alone.
“I’ve heard it said that a painter’s work reflects their state of mind at a given moment, mused, his gaze returning to Mia. “Yet, in your work, beneath the vivid and exaggerated colors, there’s a consistent undercurrent of melancholy and isolation.”
James
His dark, piercing eyes held hers, his expression calm yet impossibly deep. His gaze carried an almost unsettling intensity, as if he could see through every facade and peer directly into her soul.
“Miss Larson, someone as young and beautiful as you–what could give rise to such a sorrowful perspective?”
James had strikingly beautiful eyes–cold and enigmatic. When he gazed at someone in
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Chapter 18
silence, it was almost as if he could see through every facade and into the depths of their soul.
Mia quickly averted her gaze, unwilling to lock eyes with someone so disconcertingly perceptive. “I’ve heard that buyers are often willing to pay a premium for artwork because they resonate with the emotions the artist conveys in their pieces,” she said, her tone casual yet probing.
“Mr. Hawthorne, you seem young, accomplished and quite handsome. What could make you relate so deeply to such melancholy?”
She didn’t want to be an open book to a stranger so she masked her vulnerability with a playful, almost defiant remark, turning the question back on him.
She half–expected the powerful Mr. Hawthorne to be mildly annoyed by her forwardness. A man of his stature likely wasn’t used to people speaking to him so candidly.
After all, Nick had been the opposite. During her years with him, Mia had to tread carefully, always tiptoeing around his ego. Disagreement or defiance would sour his mood in an instant.
Mia had once been terrified of upsetting Nick–or anyone, for that matter. She had lived to please, often at the expense of her own well–being.
But not anymore.
She had left that version of herself behind, breaking free of the need to appease others. She was determined to embrace her new life with confidence.
If James found her comment displeasing, so be it. Their conversation could end there. As someone who avoided socializing anyway, Mia wasn’t keen on prolonging their chat.
To her surprise, James wasn’t offended. Instead, he chuckled softly, exuding charm and composure. “Thank you for the compliment,” he said warmly.
“Uh…?” Mia blinked, caught off guard. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, “I didn’t compliment you.”
The amusement in James’s eyes deepened. “Miss Larson, you must have a short memory. Didn’t you just say I’m young, handsome, and successful?”