Chapter 225

Third-Person POV

Max tugged at his brow, leaving streaks of blue and red across his fingers. Small art studio, his haven: immersion into the rhythm of strokes and vibrant chaos that color brought. Today, however, peace in this creative space was disturbed as Megan walked in. She came inside, seemingly lost, her eyes searching around the room as if for something—or someone.

He had seen her once or twice before, in the local cafés and about town; that same look on her face - focused and resolute. She was a celebrity boxer, someone whose presence automatically generated attention. Yet here, in his world of art, she didn't quite seem to fit. It was exactly the opposite that held him so riveted by her.

Max's gaze flickered to the painting in front of him, a portrait of Megan that was more than representative—it caught in its lines a glimpse of longing, strength, and vulnerability. He hadn't intended to paint her at all, yet she had somehow surfaced onto