Chapter Content
Chapter 88: He Took Control
Lorraine had agreed to this portrait only to get back at him for last night’s wound to her pride. She didn’t need words to make her point.
The painter had been adjusting his easel for the better part of an hour, muttering under his breath about light and shadow. The room smelled faintly of turpentine and drying plaster, the scent mingling with the faint perfume clinging to Lorraine’s gown.
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