Chapter 39. Painting Memories

Evelyn

I slowly climbed up the stairs, taking deliberate steps to avoid making any noise. It almost felt as if I were on a mission to take down some motherfucking mafias, armed with a gun. Perhaps, if I had a real one in my hand, I might have transformed into a brave little soldier, with my muscular accomplice trailing behind me. This almost felt like a thrilling movie, yet simultaneously, I was fucking stressed. The last thing I wanted was to get caught.

A hushed laughter echoed through the hall, causing my gaze to snap back and focus on Jacob, standing beside me.

“Jacob, be fucking quiet. If someone happens to find us now, it’s over,” I whisper yelled at him, disbelief in my eyes. He appeared to find the situation amusing. The clock showed it was nearly 6:00 in the morning. Judging by the mansion’s silence, I knew that all the guests, including my father and Clara—who both slept bulls—were fast asleep. Not gonna lie, occasionally, I found myself doing the