Chapter 177: Chapter 177: The Art Collector

THE GALLERY DOOR chimed softly as they entered.

Inside was a space that managed to feel both intimate and grand—high ceilings, carefully placed lighting, art that ranged from Renaissance masters to contemporary pieces.

A man emerged from the back—late thirties, maybe early forties, with the kind of effortless attractiveness that suggested excellent genes and better grooming.

Dark hair swept back from a face that could have graced magazine covers, paired with a smile that probably opened as many doors as Lucson’s supernatural abilities.

His eyes lit up when he saw Lucson—genuine warmth mixed with carefully cultivated deference.

“Lucson!” Matteo moved forward with the confidence of someone comfortable in expensive spaces. “What an unexpected pleasure.” His gaze shifted to Mailah, interest sparking immediately. “And you’ve brought company. How intriguing.”

“Matteo.” Lucson’s greeting carried easy warmth but underlying purpose. “I hope we’re not interrupting.”

“For you? Never.” Matteo’s attention remained on Mailah, his smile widening. “Though you haven’t introduced your beautiful companion.”

“Mailah,” she said before Lucson could answer, extending her hand with more confidence than she felt.

Matteo took it, his grip warm and lingering just a fraction longer than necessary. “Charmed. Truly. Any friend of Lucson’s is always welcome here.” His thumb brushed across her knuckles—subtle, practiced. “Though I must say, Lucson rarely brings guests to my gallery. You must be quite special.”

“She’s looking for someone,” Lucson said smoothly, reclaiming the conversation. “I thought you might have heard something useful.”

The temperature in the gallery seemed to shift—subtle, but noticeable. Matteo’s expression remained pleasant, but calculation entered his eyes.

“I see.” He released Mailah’s hand slowly, almost reluctantly. “Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private. My office?” He gestured toward the back. “I’ll have my assistant bring refreshments.”

They followed him through the gallery, past sculptures and paintings worth small fortunes. Matteo walked close to Mailah—not quite touching, but near enough that she could smell his cologne, something expensive and woody.

“Have you been to Florence before?” he asked conversationally. “The art scene here is magnificent. I could give you a private tour sometime, if you’re interested.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Mailah said carefully, “but I’m here to find someone, not sightsee.”

“Of course. Forgive me.” Matteo’s smile turned sympathetic. “Lucson mentioned you’re looking for someone. Someone important to you?”

“My fiancé.” The word came out sharper than intended. “He disappeared from our wedding this morning.”

Matteo’s eyebrows rose. “How terrible. I’m so sorry.” He opened the door to his office—a space that continued the gallery’s aesthetic of expensive taste. “Please, sit. Tell me everything.”

The office held a desk that looked like it belonged in a palace, chairs upholstered in leather, and art on the walls that made the gallery pieces look like amateur work.

Mailah sat, hyperaware of Matteo settling into the chair beside her rather than behind his desk—close, intimate, his knee almost touching hers.

Lucson remained standing, positioning himself near the window with the kind of casual authority that suggested he owned every room he entered.

“So,” Matteo said, his attention focused on Mailah with flattering intensity. “Your fiancé disappeared. Do you have any idea who might have taken him?”

“That’s what we’re trying to determine,” Lucson said. “Which is where you come in, Matteo. You hear things. See things. Your network touches corners of both worlds that most people don’t even know exist.”

“You flatter me.” But Matteo looked pleased by the assessment. “I do maintain certain… connections. Information flows through this gallery like art itself—valuable, sought after, carefully traded.” His eyes returned to Mailah. “What’s your fiancé’s name?”

“Grayson Ashford.”

Recognition flickered across Matteo’s face—brief but unmistakable.

“Ashford,” he repeated slowly. “One of Lucson’s brothers?”

“The middle one,” Lucson supplied. “Who disappeared from a venue protected by wards that should have made abduction impossible. By someone powerful enough to bypass supernatural defenses without triggering alarms. Someone who planned this carefully.”

Matteo leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “That’s… significant. The Ashford brothers rarely make themselves targets. Your exile status usually keeps you off most entities’ radar.” He paused. “Though I suppose if one of you did something to change that status…”

“Grayson fed,” Lucson said flatly. “For the first time in three centuries. Bonded with Mailah. That information has apparently reached interested parties.”

“I imagine it has.” Matteo’s fingers drummed against his chair’s armrest. “That kind of development would draw attention from multiple directions. The Ashford brothers breaking their exile limitations? That’s the kind of news that travels fast in certain circles.”

“What circles?” Mailah asked. “Who would care that much?”

Matteo’s smile turned apologetic. “I’m afraid the supernatural world is far more complex than most humans realize. There are entities who monitor the exiled ones. Who track whether the restrictions placed on them remain effective.”

“Or evolving,” Lucson added quietly.

“Or evolving,” Matteo agreed. “Either way, it would attract interest.”

“Do you know who specifically?” Mailah pressed. “Any names? Organizations?”

“I deal in information, not certainties.” Matteo shifted closer, his voice dropping to something more confidential. “But I did hear something. Weeks ago. There was word of a disturbance.”

Lucson went very still. “What kind of disturbance?”

“The supernatural kind. A ripple in the dimensional barriers. Something crossing from one realm to another.” Matteo’s expression grew serious. “The kind of crossing that requires enormous power and very specific circumstances.”

“Someone came through,” Mailah said, her stomach dropping.

“Possibly. Or something was brought through.” Matteo looked at Lucson.

“Where?” Lucson’s voice carried an edge now. “Where was this disturbance?”

Matteo hesitated, and for the first time, genuine uncertainty crossed his face. “That’s something I genuinely don’t know. The information I received was fragmented. Whispers from multiple sources, none of them specific about location. Just that something happened. Something significant enough that multiple entities noticed.”

Silence pressed down on the office.

Then Lucson’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, his expression shifting infinitesimally. “I need to make a call. Matteo, you’ll excuse me?”

It wasn’t a question.

Mailah’s head snapped toward him, panic flaring. Don’t leave me alone with this man. Her eyes pleaded, trying to communicate without words that being left alone with someone who collected leverage for a living seemed like a spectacularly bad idea.

Lucson met her gaze, and something passed between them—acknowledgment, calculation, and then the smallest wink. So subtle she almost missed it.

Then he was gone, leaving her alone with Matteo in his expensive office.

Bastard, Mailah thought. He did that on purpose.

Of course he did. Lucson most likely never did anything without purpose.

“So,” Matteo said, his voice dropping to something warmer, more intimate now that Lucson had left. “You’re marrying a demon. That’s… brave.”

“It’s love,” Mailah corrected, keeping her voice steady. “Bravery doesn’t really factor into it.”

“Doesn’t it?” Matteo shifted closer, his knee definitely touching hers now. “Loving someone who could accidentally drain your life force? Who spent three centuries avoiding relationships because he was too dangerous? That takes either tremendous courage or tremendous naivety.”

“Or tremendous certainty that he’s worth the risk.”

“Is he?” Matteo’s hand moved to rest on the chair’s arm, close enough to her shoulder that she could feel the warmth of it. “Worth risking your life? Your humanity? Everything you are?”

Mailah forced herself not to lean away, not to show discomfort. If Lucson had left her here alone, there was a reason. And if that reason was to extract more information while Matteo thought he had her vulnerable, then she needed to play along.

Even if every instinct screamed to put distance between herself and this too-attractive man who traded in leverage.

“Yes,” she said simply. “He’s worth everything.”

“How romantic.” Matteo’s smile suggested he found her devotion charming but ultimately foolish. “Though I wonder—does Grayson feel the same? He left you at the altar, after all.”

“He didn’t leave. He was taken.”

“Are you certain?” Matteo’s voice carried sympathy that felt calculated. “Sometimes the simplest explanation is the correct one. A demon who spent three centuries avoiding commitment finally faces the reality of marriage and… reconsiders.”

Anger flared in Mailah’s chest—hot and sharp. “You didn’t know him. You don’t know us.”

“I know men,” Matteo said. “Demon or human, they’re remarkably similar when faced with situations that terrify them. Fight or flight. And Grayson has a rather extensive history of flight.”

“He also has a rather extensive history of fighting when it matters,” Mailah shot back. “He fought his own nature for three centuries. He fought against every instinct to keep me safe. He’s fighting now, wherever he is. And I’m going to find him.”

Matteo studied her, and something shifted in his expression—respect, perhaps, or genuine curiosity. “You really believe that.”

“I know it.” Mailah met his eyes directly. “Which is why I need any information you have. Anything. Even fragments. Because every detail could matter.”

“What makes you think I have more information than I’ve already shared?”

“Because Lucson left me alone with you.” Mailah kept her voice level. “He’s not careless. If he walked out, it’s because he thinks you’ll tell me things you wouldn’t tell him. So tell me—what are you holding back?”

A beat of silence.

Then Matteo laughed—genuine, surprised, delighted. “Oh, you’re clever. I can see why Grayson chose you. Most humans would still be trying to flirt back or deflect attention. You went straight for the throat.”

“I don’t have time for games. My fiancé is missing.”

“Fair enough.” Matteo leaned back, creating distance for the first time since Lucson left. “There is one more thing.”

Mailah’s heart hammered.

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