Chapter 5: A Messy Truth

Emilia stared at the painting in front of her. It was unlike anything she'd ever made—bold streaks of color, wild and unpolished. It wasn't perfect, and that made her hate it. Or maybe love it. She wasn't sure.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. She grabbed it, half-hoping it wasn't who she thought it was.

Jaden Knight: So, did my words finally get to you?

Emilia groaned out loud. She shouldn't have given him her number, but she also shouldn't have let him get into her head. And yet, here she was.

Emilia: You're impossible.

The response was instant.

Jaden: Maybe. But I was right, wasn't I?

She tossed her phone onto the counter and went back to her canvas, but her mind wasn't on the art anymore. It was on him.

The next day, Emilia tried to distract herself by running errands around town. She stopped by the art supply store, picked up groceries, and even treated herself to a coffee. But no matter what she did, Jaden's words lingered.

"You're holding back."

She hated how much those words bothered her because deep down, she knew he wasn't wrong.

As she walked home, the city's noise faded into the background. Her thoughts were louder. By the time she reached her studio, she'd decided she was done letting Jaden mess with her head.

She grabbed her phone and texted him.

Emilia: Fine. You want to see my work? Meet me tomorrow at 4. My studio.

His reply came seconds later.

Jaden: Can't wait.

The Studio

The next day, Emilia paced the room, second-guessing her decision. Why had she invited him here? What did she expect to gain from this?

When the knock came, she froze for a moment before pulling herself together and opening the door.

Jaden stood there, his usual smug grin in place. "Nice setup," he said, stepping inside.

"Don't touch anything," Emilia warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, but his eyes were already scanning the room, taking in the canvases stacked against the walls.

Emilia crossed her arms. "You wanted to see the truth, right? Here it is."

She gestured to the painting she'd made the night before. It was still drying, the colors bold and unapologetic.

Jaden walked closer, his expression serious for once. "This," he said softly, "is what I've been waiting to see."

Emilia blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

"This," Jaden said, pointing at the painting, "is you. No filters, no hiding. It's messy, but it's alive."

Emilia didn't know how to respond. For a moment, she just stood there, unsure if she felt proud, vulnerable, or annoyed.

"So, what now?" she asked finally.

Jaden turned to her, his grin returning. "Now? You stop doubting yourself. And maybe... you let me help."

She frowned. "Help how?"

He leaned casually against the wall, as if he owned the place. "I've got connections. People who could take your art to the next level. All I ask is you keep painting like this."

Emilia narrowed her eyes. "What's in it for you?"

"Let's just say I like being part of something real," he said.

She studied him for a long moment, trying to figure him out. He wasn't easy to read, and that frustrated her. But one thing was clear—he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Fine," she said, turning back to the canvas. "But don't think for a second this means I trust you."

Jaden's laugh echoed through the studio. "Wouldn't expect anything less."