Revenge · Short fiction

Blind Sculptor's Mud Bust Hides A Secret Worth Millions, And The Billionaire Won't Stop

Blind Sculptor's Mud Bust Hides A Secret Worth Millions, And The Billionaire Won't Stop — Part 1
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The Sculptor and the Diamond

The air in the five-star Parisian hotel lobby hung thick with the scent of expensive polish and the drumming of a midnight storm. Rain hammered the colossal arched windows, each gust of wind a mournful cry against the opulent silence. Jagged forks of lightning ripped through the black sky, momentarily freezing the scene in a dramatic tableau of chiaroscuro. Gilded columns gleamed, reflected in the mirror-like marble floor, while a crystal chandelier swayed gently, its muffled hum a counterpoint to the distant, bass-heavy rumble of thunder.

Amidst this tempestuous grandeur stood Armand Dubois, a man sculpted by wealth and arrogance. At 48, his silver-streaked dark hair was slicked back, his aquiline nose casting a haughty shadow. A bespoke midnight-blue suit clung to his frame, the gleam of an 18k gold Patek Philippe watch at his cuff a silent testament to his status. He loomed over a polished marble console table, his lip curled in a perpetual sneer.

Blind Sculptor's Mud Bust Hides A Secret Worth Millions, And The Billionaire Won't Stop

Opposite him, a study in grounded serenity, was Sarah. At 24, her world was perceived not through sight, but through touch. Her hazel-grey eyes, milky and opalescent, stared calmly forward, unseeing. Delicate porcelain skin contrasted with the dark, wavy hair loosely pinned back. She wore an oversized cream cable-knit sweater, dusted with the tell-tale signs of her craft: clay. Her slender, calloused fingers rested on a rough, unfired grey clay bust, its form still emerging from the earth.

Armand’s condescension was palpable. With a flick of his wrist, a crumpled fifty-dollar bill skittered across the wet marble, landing near Sarah's hands. His eyes, narrowed with contempt, followed its path. "Take the fifty dollars, blind girl," he sneered, his voice sharp and cutting. "Your crude mud heap isn't worth a dime more." Sarah remained silent, her mouth closed, her sightless gaze steady, chin held high with an unshakeable dignity as another rumble of thunder vibrated through the room.

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Sarah remained silent, her mouth closed, her sightless gaze steady, chin held high with an unshakeable dignity as another rumble of thund…