Page 81 of Painter's Obsession

I guess I kept my promise after all.

I flick off the lights, casting the room into darkness, and answer the call as I step outside.

“Hi,” I say, my voice soft but steady.

“Hey! Are you ready for your flight?” Gabriela’s voice is bright, filled with an energy that eases the tension I didn’t realize I was carrying.

A smile spreads across my face. “So ready.”

“Good! I made a list of all the good restaurants and museums for us to visit. It’s so beautiful and peaceful here—you’re gonna love it.”

As she talks, I approach the black SUV idling at the curb. The Uber I ordered, right on time. I open the back door and slide into the seat, the leather cold against my palms.

“I’m getting in the car now,” I say, leaning back as I glance at my phone. The line crackles, then cuts out. “Gab?” I ask, frowning at the screen. No service.

“What the—“ I mutter, shifting in my seat.

Before I can process it, the doors lock with a soft, mechanical click. My stomach twists into a knot, a wave of nausea rising in my throat as my pulse quickens. The SUV begins to move, the hum of the engine vibrating through my body.

Panic claws at me, my heart ricocheting in my chest. I reach for the door handle, pulling at it uselessly.

Suddenly, the car comes to a stop. The silence is deafening, broken only by my shallow, ragged breaths.

The privacy screen lowers slowly, deliberately, and the driver adjusts his rearview mirror. My vision blurs as bile rises in my throat, but I force myself to focus.

A gloved hand reaches up, pulling down the mask that obscures his face.

My phone slips from my hand, hitting the floor with a dull thud as my world tilts sideways.

I see him.

“Ren.”