Shades of Sins (New York Sinner Series Book 2)

6| Art

Only invited guests were granted entrance for the night, and a long queue of us were lined up at the doors. There sure were an awful lot of people attending, considering nobody knew the host. 

I got in line, the chatter continuing around me after a few glances at me. The first person I recognized was Marshall as he climbed up the short steps and paused, turning to wait for someone. I knew it was her the moment my gaze landed on her. But she was with someone else. A man. 

I couldn't help the annoyance that surged through me, and I couldn't afford to express it in this crowd, so all I could do was look away as my jaw ticked and my hands twitched to ball up into fists. 

My eyes drifted back to her the way they always seemed to, never losing her in the crowd. She looked as tempting as always. Her hair was drawn back into a low bun, revealing her backless white dress. The silk flowed down to her heels, with two strings of diamonds crossing between her shoulder blades and then continuing down to her tailbone, where the fabric began. 

It wasn't until I actually glanced at the man she walked in with, arms linked together, that I realized it was Scott. Scott was another agent still working with the FBI, and he'd worked with both Anastasia and me in the past. 

Handing my invitation in as I reached the front of the queue, I told the guard my name, and once it was checked off on the list, I stepped into the gallery. Several paintings and sculptures were on display, being unveiled one by one. 

The crowd dispersed around the hall, roaming from one spot to another, photographing and whispering about the paintings. Despite the event having started, there was no host in sight. 

"Dante!" came a familiar voice. 

I stopped in front of a sculpture and spotted Mr Jameson heading my way. Lifting a hand, I lightly scratched my brow before tucking my hands into my pockets, my eyes scanning the room. As he began approaching me, I found Anastasia again. 

It was almost as if my body and mind would search for her in a crowded room subconsciously. My eyes always seemed to find her, like a moth drawn to a flame. It enraged me that someone, especially her, influenced me so much. 

I could never decipher what it was about her that pulled me in, there was never a right answer, never an explanation. People always wanted what they couldn't have. I wondered if I was so tempted by her simply because I knew nothing could ever come of it or because the idea of playing with fire enticed me so much. 

Anastasia was incredibly difficult at times. She was stubborn and rigid in her words and beliefs. She was persistent, so much that it would vex anybody. Not to mention, she was rather high maintenance. She challenged me like no one ever could, so even if she was high maintenance, I used to like... maintaining her. 

But her stubbornness often made her uncooperative. Whenever we were assigned to work together, she knew how to make me listen but also to listen to me. It was whenever we competed at work that things unraveled, and the control slipped from our grasp. 

She would stop at nothing to win, and I had never lost at anything in life until she came around. It was addicting. Working against her came with a thrill of its own. She was the one person who evoked something unfamiliar within me, stirred something up inside of me, and I despised it. 

We were alike in many ways. She hardly showed emotion to those around her, like myself, but once she walked into my life, I started to lose control over that. I was adamant to do the same to her. I wanted to watch her lose control around me.