"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed." - Albert Einstein

  Saint

  The conversation with Marcus replayed in my mind, each word, each hesitation, a nagging reminder that something was amiss. *It's not my story to tell, Saint. It's Veronica's. If she wants you to know, she'll tell you.* His words, meant to reassure me, only amplified my unease. It wasn't just about respecting Veronica's privacy; it was about the danger I sensed lurking beneath the surface. And danger, especially where Veronica was concerned, was something I couldn't ignore. It was more than just a professional obligation, a duty. It was…personal.

  I sat in my office, the city lights painting long shadows across the room. The auction, the elegant ballroom, the forced smiles – it all felt like a distant memory, a facade that had masked something far more sinister. I closed my eyes, picturing Veronica's face. The flash of fear in her eyes when I'd mentioned the man in the ladies' room, the way she'd instinctively recoiled before regaining her composure. It was a reaction that spoke volumes. And it wasn't just her fear that lingered in my mind. It was the way she'd looked later, composed, elegant, yet with a hint of vulnerability that stirred something within me. An attraction I tried to suppress, telling myself it was inappropriate, unprofessional. But the truth was, I found myself drawn to her in a way that went beyond mere protectiveness.

  I pulled up the security footage from the hotel on my computer screen, fast-forwarding to the point where Veronica had left the ballroom. I watched as she entered the ladies' room, followed shortly after by a man I didn't recognize. He was tall, well-dressed, handsome in a sense, but there was something about his demeanor that set me on edge. An air of…familiarity, perhaps? As if I'd seen him before, but couldn't quite place him.

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  I zoomed in on the footage, trying to get a clearer picture of his face. His features were not unremarkable; he possessed a certain charm, a carefully cultivated air of confidence. Yet, there was something in his eyes, a coldness, a calculating glint, that sent a shiver down my spine. He spoke to Veronica for several minutes, their conversation inaudible. I watched as Veronica's expression shifted from polite interest to something else… something akin to fear. And then, a flicker of something else... resignation? It was fleeting, but I saw it. Then, I appeared in the footage, approaching the ladies' room. The man quickly departed. Almost as if he knew I was coming.

  I paused the footage, focusing on the man's face. I needed to know who he was. Not just for Veronica's safety, but for my own peace of mind. The thought of him near her, of the fear I'd seen in her eyes, fueled a possessive anger I hadn't expected. I reached for my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found the number I was looking for.

  "Sal," I said when the connection was made, "I need a favor."

  "Always, Saint," Sal's voice replied, laced with a hint of amusement. "What do you need?"

  "I'm sending you a picture," I said. "I need you to identify this man. Find out everything you can about him. His name, his associates, his history. Everything."

  "Consider it done," Sal replied. "Anything else?"

  "Yeah," I said, my voice hardening. "Find out if he's connected to Veronica in any way. Any connection, no matter how small, I want to know about it." My tone was sharper than I intended, betraying the depth of my concern. Or perhaps, something more.

  "Understood," Sal said. "I'll get back to you as soon as I have something."

  I hung up, the feeling of unease still lingering. I had a feeling this was just the beginning. Something was coming. And I needed to be ready. For Veronica's sake. And, I admitted to myself, for my own.