LEAH
“Come with me; I want to show you something,” Damian said as he got up from his chair.
I also stood, ever so slowly, scared that I angered him, did he see through my lies? I did try to sound convincing.
“I don't plan to kill you,” he said cautiously and added. “Let's go.”
I stepped into the artistry room with Damien, and my breath caught in my throat.
It was a treasure trove of creativity—a kaleidoscope of colors splashed across canvases, each piece more breathtaking than the last. I was instantly mesmerized; I had never seen anything quite like it. Each brushstroke seemed to tell a story, to breathe life into the canvases, and I felt like I was walking through a dream.
“What is this place?” The question flew out of my mouth before I could think twice about it.
“My Gallery.” He
