Chapter 3 Portrait

"Dom! My love, I see you haven't escaped the grasp of your ex-wife," the silhouette declared with a wicked laugh. I couldn't understand why she would be here now, adding even more tension to the already strained relationship between our families. As I stared out the window in my dimly lit office, I could smell her perfume without even turning around. It always lingered in my nose, reminding me of our past nights together.

"What the hell are you doing here, Cadenza?" I asked as she fully entered my office. She was undeniably beautiful, but she was no longer my type. Cadenza glided into the room, the hem of her scarlet dress whispering against the polished wooden floor as if it were a secret only the two of them shared. "I've come to offer my congratulations," she said, her voice a symphony of insincerity as she approached my desk.

Her smile was a sharp crescent moon, bright against the stormy backdrop of her intentions. I didn't need to ask what she was congratulating me for; Cadenza had a talent for knowing things that slithered beneath the surface. She was referring to my recent acquisition of Antonio Russo's "Eternal Echoes" painting. She works at a prestigious gallery in Italy that belongs to her family. "Cadenza, what are you congratulating me for?" I asked, pretending not to know the reason for her congratulations.

Cadenza paused, her eyes sparkling with latent mischief. She leaned forward, her hands clasped in front of her as if she were about to pray-though I doubted she'd bowed before any deity in years. "For your impeccable taste, of course," she purred, her voice dripping with honeyed venom. "Eternal Echoes" is a masterpiece, and it's now in the hands of a man who wouldn't know a Caravaggio from a comic strip if it bit him on the nose."

I clenched my jaw, feeling my temper rise at her backhanded compliment. Despite our history, Cadenza never missed an opportunity to belittle me. I had grown weary of these games. Our past was a twisted vine, full of thorns that had once ensnared me. No more. "Your congratulations are noted and as empty as I remember your promises to be," I retorted with a calmness that surprised even me. My response seemed to amuse her, and Cadenza's laugh was like the tinkling of fine crystal that could shatter at any moment.

"Oh, darling, you wound me," she said with a mock sigh, placing one hand over her heart as if I had truly pierced it. "I thought you'd be thrilled to see me, especially since I've come all this way to see you." Cadenza's eyes narrowed just a fraction, the mercurial glint within them betraying her true purpose. She never did anything without an ulterior motive.

With a flick of her wrist, Cadenza produced an invitation from the folds of her dress - a thick, cream-colored card embossed with gold lettering. She placed it on my desk with the delicacy of someone handling a priceless artifact. "You are cordially invited," she began, reading over the top of the card as if to remind me of the formalities involved in such an affair, "to the unveiling of the newly discovered works of Giovanni Battista Moroni. The event is to be held at the Palazzo Albrizzi-Capello, under the patronage of my dear family."

Her eyes remained fixed on mine, clearly expecting a reaction. I regarded the invitation with a mixture of skepticism and intrigue. The Moroni unveiling was an event I had heard whispers about, a gathering that would pull the city's elite into its opulent embrace. "And why, pray tell, should I attend such an affair?" I asked, my tone measured but laced with suspicion.

Cadenza leaned in, her perfume wafting across the space between us like an enticing trap. "Because, my dear," she whispered conspiratorially, "this is not merely an exhibition. It's the stage for a revelation that will send ripples across the art world-and beyond. And you, with your particular...interests, would not want to miss it." Her eyes gleamed with the thrill of shared secrets, her lips curled in a knowing smile that suggested the revelations in question were far from ordinary.

After hesitating for a moment, I walked over to my desk and sank into the comfortable embrace of my office chair. I took a pause to thoroughly examine the invitation, flipping it over in my hands. "I'm leaving now, but let me know if you need a date." Cadenza had said before departing. The paper exuded an air of luxury, and the faint scent that clung to it was undoubtedly Cadenza's - a subtle reminder of her presence even after she had left. My eyes scanned the elegant script, each letter intricately designed to convey a message.

The occasion was undoubtedly grand, but amidst the extravagant words, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was a carefully laid trap. Cadenza was not just a wealthy socialite; she was a determined woman who always got what she wanted. And although she was undeniably beautiful, I refused to be controlled by her charms.