Art and Deception(Chapter Two)
1374 Words
Zelda highlighted from a yellow cab and stepped through the grand college gate.
The imposing structure looked above her, its intricate architecture a testament to the institution's rich history.
The lush greenery and vibrant flowers that lined the walkways added a touch of serenity to the bustling campus.
Fiorenza is a charming city, steeped in tradition and innovation, making it an ideal setting for a prestigious institution like the Università degli Studi di Fiorenza(University of Fiorenza) Located in the country of Italvia.
A picturesque nation nestled in the heart of Europe, known for its rich history, art, architecture, and vibrant culture.
Zelda once had a fiery passion for painting, which led her to pursue an art degree in college.
However, over time, her enthusiasm waned as her mind became preoccupied with finding a way out of her circumstances, causing her creative spark to fade.
With renewed determination, she set out to rekindle her passion for art, honing her skills and revitalizing her creative spirit as she pursued her degree.
Upon entering the hall, she slipped into a seat by the corner, preferring to observe from a discreet distance.
The sound of rustling papers and murmured conversations created a gentle hum that filled the space.
Just as she settled in, Professor Masson Benedict swept into the room, his presence commanding attention.
With a warm smile, he began to discuss the nuances of aesthetics in art, effortlessly weaving together examples from various disciplines to illustrate his points.
As he spoke, the students' eyes lit up with understanding, and the room was filled with an atmosphere of engaged learning.
The professor's passion for the subject was contagious, and soon the entire class was captivated by the intricacies of beauty and form.
•••••
Following lectures and a 20 minutes painting session in the gallery, she opted to head straight to an eatery, nestled beside the school building since the School cafeteria only had coffee and few a snacks.
The Eatery's modern interior adored with colorful artwork which were painted and sold by some of the students, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere thereby making it the perfect spot to refuel and recharge.
"Thank you", she said politely as she received her orders and sat down to eat, the sounds of lively chatter and clinking utensils filled the cafeteria, accompanied by the faint scent of pizza and sandwiches wafting from the food stations.
The large windows framed a picturesque view of the campus's lush greenery with sunlight casting a warm glow on the scene.
Soon a convoy of sleek cars whizzed by, their polished exteriors glinting in the sunlight.
Her eyes scanned the procession, and her gaze locked into a distinctive "VD" imprinted on the license plate.
Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the subtle yet unmistakable signature that announced the arrival of Nicholas's men.
"Miss, is there anything else?" The waitress interrupted her thoughts process.
"No thank you" she said gracefully as she took a bite of her Lasagna Bolognese, savoring the flavors and feeling a sense of comfort amidst the bustling atmosphere.
•••••
At the office, Marco's forehead glistened with sweat as he frantically tried to keep a low profile.
He stole a nervous glance at Nicholas, his eyes darting away quickly as a shiver ran down his spine.
The Vladimirs exuded an aura of intimidation that seemed almost hereditary, striking fear into the hearts of those around them.
When Nicholas succeeded his father as the mafia lord, many had predicted he'd be a mere placeholder, soon to be supplanted by a more ruthless leader.
But he had defied expectations, proving to be an even more formidable force than his predecessor, his presence commanding respect and inspiring dread.
Nicholas's voice dripped with menace as he asked, "Do you need help with leaving?" The words hung in the air like a challenge.
His tone a subtle warning that Marco didn't dare ignore. "I-I can manage, boss," Marco stuttered, his eyes darting towards the door as he scurried away, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
The sound of his own footsteps seemed amplified, as if he was fleeing from the weight of Nicholas's piercing gaze.
With a mix of despair and resignation, Nicholas muttered, "I must have been delusional to think things would ever change," his voice hoarse from unspoken emotions.
As he dabbed at the blood with a crumpled napkin, the sudden, piercing beep of his wristwatch sliced through the air, jolting him back to reality.
His eyes flicked to the screen, and with a swift motion, he dialed Michael's number. "Get Doctor Andrea and the team here now," he barked into the phone, his tone crisp and commanding.
Several moments later, Doctor Andrea and her team swiftly arrived.
Their calm efficiency a testament to their experience with Nicholas's recurring episodes, as they methodically set up their equipment with quiet precision.
"Sir your Fatal Familia insomnia (FFL) is developing rapidly, you need proper medical attention.
And if your episodes are constant, It will trigger your brain cells, you'll experience dysregulation of bodily functions." Doctor Andreas said persuasively as she passed the Sphygmomanometer to the doctor beside her.
"Your health will slowly decline, Mr. Vladimir, if you don't take time to recuperate", The man's words hung in the air like a warning as checked his blood pressure.
"Doc Allen is right, you really need to avoid triggers or you will have to observe social isolation" Doc Mattio injected.
Nicholas's words sliced through the air, "Enough talk, I need to catch a breather," his hoarse voice a testament to his growing unease.
Doc Mattio's eyes flicked to the others before he whispered, "I heard it's a girl that's behind his refusal to opt for the isolation treatment".
The air thickened with tension as Doc Andrea's soft confirmation, "apparently, she's tied to his triggers", hung in the air like a challenge, until Nicholas's sharp command to Michael, "Get the car ready, back to the mansion", shattered the silence.
•••••
He tugged at his collar in discomfort as he headed to the parlour. "Zelda" He squealed softly as his eyes landed on her peacefully sleeping on the couch.
His jaw dropped, and he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. The jackets slipped from his arms, hitting the floor with a soft thud. He stood frozen, his mind reelng with shock. How could she be...? Why was she...? Questions swirled, but he couldn't form words.
Slowly, he regained control of his limbs and took a step forward, his gaze locking onto the serene figure on the couch, her peaceful slumber a stark contrast to his own turmoil.
His eyes traced the gentle curve of her face before settling on the book beside her, its pages spread open, as he picked it up, his fingers tracing the lines of text, his expression softened in the quiet moment.
He pondered, "Did she choose college over the airport? She ran away yesterday, why the sudden interest in lectures?"
His gaze drifted as he dropped the book onto the coffee table and hung his jacket.
With a few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up, he settled beside Zelda on the couch, gently adjusting her position before covering them both with a throw blanket.
He gazed at her serene face, brushing aside strands of hair to reveal her luscious lips.
A lump formed in his throat as he whispered, "If only you could be mine," before drifting into sleep.
•••••
After a few hours, Nicholas stirred, his hands instinctively reaching for Zelda.
He sprang up, his mind racing. He reached for his phone and rapidly dialed Michael's number. "I need you to mobilize the special forces, now.
Gather everyone and have them search for Miss Zelda. She's been missing for hours," he said, his face etched with concern.
Just then, a soft voice chimed in, "Oh, you're awake." he slowly turned to see Zelda emerging from the hallway.
His worried expression softened at the sight of her patting her hands dry with a towel.
The sweet scent emanating from her calmed his frazzled nerves.
He slid the phone still on call into his pocket, murmuring a gentle "Mm."
- Writer
