Chapter Twenty-Two

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It was finally finished

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It was finally finished.

Complete.

Done.

The both of us stood in his office, leaning against his desk. Our eyes were on the finished piece of artwork that Dorian had commissioned what seemed like long ago.

On the canvas, Dorian stood being his father's chair as the both of them were laughing at something. It wasn't serious like all the other portraits I had seen in the past. It didn't show power or authority. It showed their relationship; their natural bond between a father and a son. Like he wanted, I made Dorian's father darker and Dorian brighter. It wasn't too noticeable but it was enough the show the old CEO and the new CEO of the company.

"It's perfect," Dorian said, breaking the silence that surrounded us once I had unveiled it. I looked at him with a relieved smile. His bare arms snaked their way round my waist, pulling me closer towards him. His lips pressed a longing soft kiss on my forehead.

"It took long enough," I said, my hands behind his neck. His lips hovered above mine. Teasing me to kiss him. As Dorian leant in closer, the sound of the office doors opening broke us apart. Immediately, Dorian cleared his throat as I darted besides the painting, standing as if I had been there all this time.

An older looking gentleman entered the room. His silver hair and the crow's feet at the corner of his eyes showed the amount of years he had been working. His pressed, designer suit and silver clip resting on his tie showed how serious he was. His expression was bleak as a sense of coldness filled the room. He made it cold in the summer. His face was serious as his mind concentrated on so much.

"Mr Davington," Dorian said, bringing the man's attention to us. The older man's cold exterior dropped and we were greeted with a warm, welcoming smile.

"Dorian," He said with a smile. As they both shook hands and Dorian asked how he was, Mr Davington turned and noticed me. He let go of Dorian's hand and smiled nervously at me.

"I didn't realise I was intruding a personal meeting." He said apologetically.

"Oh no, you weren't," I said walking towards them, I held out my hand towards him. "Alena Richards. We spoke on the phone about the painting. You were the one that called me."

His eyes filled with recognition as he took my hand and shook it. "Carter Davington, Chief Operating Officer of the Bradley Enterprise. I've heard wonderful things about you and your gallery. How is the painting going?" He asked focusing on both Dorian and I.

"It's finished," Dorian pointed to the piece. Mr Davington turned from the both of us and faced the filled canvas in awe and admiration. His eyes wandered over the two subjects.

As he continued to take in the piece, Dorian's fingers brushed against mine. I could feel his eyes wander on me. I took in a deep breath and tried to ignore the sparks between us.

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