Chapter Forty-ThreeNo one greets me inside, so I ogle my surroundings.
There’s a sort of Spartan opulence to Nero’s grand foyer. Despite the modern art on the walls, eighteen-foot ceilings give the place a cathedral vibe.
I start walking aimlessly.
Each of the pieces of furniture I pass looks like it costs more than a decade of my salary, and was handpicked by the best interior designers.
Following some intuition, I take a left hallway and find myself in an art studio.
“So you do paint,” I whisper to the hidden mics as I stare at the various breathtaking oil-on-canvas landscapes.
Then I see it.
Me.
Or rather, a drawing of me—only I don’t look this radiant in real life.
I’m standing on a white-sand beach wearing a skimpy bathing suit that I retired soon after college.
“This is fro
