Sebastian leaned against one of the gallery pillars, arms crossed at his broad chest, pretending to study the painting behind him—but actually, his gaze never left her.

Callista stood in front of a massive canvas filled with bold brushstrokes, something abstract and chaotic—yet somehow beautiful. She wasn’t just admiring it but reading it. Drinking it in like it whispered some secret only she could understand.

The way her eyes narrowed, the way her lips parted slightly when something ...