The Sweetest Temptation
Chapter 74: His paintings

Chapter 74: His paintings

"L-let’s go," Beatrix whispered back in a tight voice before continuing down the hallway.

They reached a large French doors which Rhys opened with a thumb print. She didn’t think any of the rooms in the house were locked but she said nothing as he pushed one door open.

It was a huge room with high ceilings and it seemed to be located on the lowest portion of the house’s foundation.

It was sunken a few steps and had a full wall of glass opposite the entrance. The room contained a large four-poster bed surrounded by nightstands, a cushioned bench at the foot of the bed, and a small table for two.

The glass wall had a steel-framed glass door that opened onto a small concrete balcony overlooking the backyard of the house.

It had a viewing deck on the upper level with metal railings. The room seemed like a secret, but it was fully exposed to the backyard in a hidden part of the cove.

Beatrix blinked a few times, mesmerized by the sight, before glancing around and noticing what hung on the white walls on each side of them.

There were canvases of various sizes hanging closely together on the walls. Some of the canvases depicted natural scenes, while others featured abstract designs.

The paintings were vibrant and rich in color, and they evoked vivid and entrancing moods, despite the slightly uneven strokes, which seemed almost playful but that wasn’t what caught Beatrix eyes it was the contrasting canvas on the other side of the room.

These canvas had dark paintings. A child looking longingly at a family playing at the park with blood flowing from his eyes.

Another one depicts a hunched over young man with a cigarette in his mouth, slumped against a wall. The man’s face was gloomy and his body was emaciated, conveying a sense of isolation and desperation. The muted colors and the man’s downward gaze further contribute to the feeling of loneliness and melancholy in the painting.

Then there was another one, a teenage boy lying on the floor with pills and needles beside him. He had a calm smirk on his face as if he was welcoming whatever that was happening to him.

Then-

Rhys came to stand in front of her blocking her view from looking at the dark canvas.

Beatrix opened her mouth to say something but she stopped when she saw a painting of a beautiful woman hanging on top of the wall where the bed was.

The beautiful blonde woman had bright blue eyes that sparkled like the ocean on a sunny day. Her hair was a golden hue, cascading down her shoulders in soft waves. She had a heart-shaped face with delicate features, including a small nose and full lips.

A wave of jealousy coursed through Beatrix. She bit her lips and shifted uncomfortably. Whoever she was, she must be very important for him to paint her on such a large canvas and hang it on the top of his bed.

"W-who is she? She asked, pointing at the painting.

"My first love." Rhys replied simply.

Beatrix felt a tightness in her chest; she couldn’t believe that he had just said that.

She had no claim over him and no right to be upset- particularly when she didn’t know she would choose him or Damien at the end of the day but she couldn’t help the disappointment and jealousy that flooded through her.

Her expression must have given away her internal struggle,because Rhys chuckled and flicked her forehead with his finger.

Beatrix glared at him and rubbed her forehead.

"That’s my mom." He said, a smile on his face.

"She is pretty right? I feel like she was too pretty for my dad. I have always wondered why she chose him. She said he was a good man. Whatever that meant."

From the way he was talking it seemed he didn’t really like his dad.

"You didn’t like your dad?" Beatrix asked.

Rhys shrugged, "He wasn’t really my dad. My mom was a single mom with me until she met him when I was six years old.

He tried his best but I just couldn’t like him. I felt like he wanted to steal my mom away from me. "

Rhys said with a sad smile on his face, "We started clicking a year before they were killed. I blame him though. He lied to me and my mom about his real identity. Not knowing he was part of the mafia. He was Damien’s father right hand man."

Beatrix frowned,"Oh.."

Rhys pulled her into his chest, "You don’t have to get jealous love. My mom is my first love. I haven’t fallen in love with anyone else yet. Maybe you’ll be the person to change that?"

Beatrix flushed as he pressed a kiss on her nose.

He pulled away and walked towards the bright paintings.

"These are my mother’s paintings. She was an artist. A very famous artist but she was anonymous. Only a few people knew her."

Beatrix walked towards the painting of woman playing in a field of dandelions. At the bottom right of the canvas was a rough stroke of litters that looked like Ash..

Beatrix’s eyes widened at the familiar initial, "Your mom was Ash?"

Rhys nodded rubbing the back of his neck, "Yeah..."

"Wow...my mom was obsessed with her paintings. We still have some of her collections in our house. It’s truly amazing."

"Yeah she was really good at what she does. I still have a lot of work to do to reach her level."

His voice trailed off and he slowly turned to walk to the glass wall and faced the backyard as if to turn away would stem the flow of what he clearly didn’t want spilling out.

Beatrix looked at the canvas at the other corner of the room and walked towards it. Even though the painting was dark and the strokes were aggressive it was truly amazing how it was able to convey the artist’s emotions and feelings.

Despair, anger, loneliness. Beatrix looked at the bottom and saw the initials R.V.

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