The Sinners We Love |18+

[5] beau

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beau: insight and rational thinking and balanced and warm

all the paintings, places, incidents and religions mentioned here are imaginary. it is not intended to hurt or violate any/certain kind.

I sat in the excruciating silence surrounded by the elegant interior of an Audi.

The Ferreros had asked me to visit La Lena, one of the most prestigious art museums in our country, to understand their aesthetic preferences. The museum never allowed exhibitions, gatherings, or any visitors. It had been closed before I was even born. But thinking about the Ferreros it made sense. They owned The Mortgz, of course, they would have some special access to this place.

My mother had once told that it preserved the finest of pieces, from when she had the chance to visit. And the reflection that their establishment would want something or anything similar to whatever the insides of La Lena held was unnerving. I had wished I could do more research about the place so that I could toss some know-it-all words once in a while, saving my face. But there was nothing on the internet. A trust fund owned it now and that's the only information available on the sites.

There were rumors surrounding the museum. About its architecture. And altarpieces. And the one who had founded it. The most popular one being — a woman hoarded the most beautiful pieces of art for her child. For her child to grow up surrounded by the finest of tastes. The two most precious things in her life nourishing and growing together.

My feet tapped on the beige thick carpet of the car. Impatient and giddy. "Is someone going to guide me there?" I sliced the horrid silence.

The man who drove did not care to introduce himself and I was skeptical if it was because his English was not fluent. But the way he lacked manners, made me believe speaking to me was the last thing he wanted to do this morning.

He did not answer. So I continued. "Have you ever been inside the museum?" I bit my lip in anticipation. I was being pushy. But talking was the only thing that calmed me. "I don't know anything about that place, you know? It's so private— I thought— "

"I was instructed to take you to the museum." It took me a couple of minutes to understand his words, his tongue thick with accent as he swerved the vehicle with absolute precision, taking a sharp turn and making my lips seal. His sharp features almost dull. Passive. As if everything in the world bored him.

The large iron gates opened. Outside which I had stood a couple of times longing to enter the premises. But today the security did not stop me. Freshly trimmed bushes designed either sides that stretched acres and acres from my view. The man killed the engine upon reaching the stairs carved out of stone.

I slid outside the car. My eyes wandering away to the one-story building that stood ever so gracefully as if it had carried generations of heritage. The man did not bother coming out, so I bent down to see him through the window. "Thank you." A smile etched my lips, with happiness that I was finally here and with hope he would at least give me his name.

He did not. With a curt nod, he revved the engine back to life and drove away. Not taking the designated exit. Very charismatic.

I ascended the steps, my heels clanking against the obsidian stone. A heavy mahogany door filled with intricate wooden design separated me from the world beyond. This was too beautiful. I could only wonder how many months it must have taken to even complete just one side of the door. It reeked royalty.