Contract Marriage with My Secret Partner in Crime-Chapter 36: Paintings

Kendrick reached the end of the passage, his breath steady as he examined the reinforced door in front of him. The metal surface was old, worn with time, yet the lock remained intact—a simple, outdated mechanism, something that once served as security but was now merely an obstacle to him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tension wrench and a rake pick, slipping them into the lock with practiced ease. Years of experience had trained his hands, and within seconds, he felt the familiar give of the lock’s pins. A soft click echoed in the passage as the door unlocked. He exhaled slowly, then pushed the door open, stepping inside.

The musty scent of aged wood and fermented grapes filled his nostrils. Wine racks stretched across the walls, bottles neatly arranged according to year and origin. His sharp gaze scanned the room—there had to be another hidden entrance leading to the secret basement. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

Moving swiftly yet carefully, he traced his fingers along the racks, searching for inconsistencies. Then, his eyes landed on a peculiar detail—a single wine bottle among the collection was slightly misaligned. Unlike the others, which rested securely on their shelves, this one wobbled slightly when touched.

A hidden lever.

With a firm grip, he tilted the bottle. A faint mechanical sound clicked from within the wall. The entire rack shuddered before it silently slid aside, revealing a dimly lit staircase leading downward.

Kendrick’s pulse quickened as he descended. The scent of oil paint and aged canvas filled the air, growing stronger with each step.

When he finally reached the bottom, another door appeared before him. To his surprise, it wasn’t locked. He opened it and stepped inside, the sight before him leaving him momentarily stunned.

A vast collection of authentic paintings adorned the walls—works from world-renowned painters. The room was a hidden gallery of stolen masterpieces, each worth millions. And then, his eyes locked onto something familiar.

His father’s paintings.

His breath hitched. The memory of his father’s face was already a blur in his mind. It had been so long, and without a single photograph to hold onto, his features had faded from memory. But his signature remained vivid—"P. Montclair." It was unmistakable.

His father’s works were still admired, still acknowledged by art enthusiasts worldwide. And now, they were here, hidden in the depths of Mr. Lody’s estate.

Before his thoughts could drift too far, Kendrick pulled out his phone. He switched to video mode, carefully documenting each painting, capturing the details, the evidence. He took pictures from multiple angles, ensuring clarity.

Once satisfied, he accessed an anonymous server and sent everything to the authorities—the images, the video, the location, and instructions on how to access the hidden basement.

The moment he exposed the truth at the gala, law enforcement would already be en route. There would be no time for Mr. Lody to cover his tracks.

With a final glance at the paintings, Kendrick steeled himself and turned to leave. But just as he reached for the door, it creaked open.

He barely had time to slip into the shadows before two men stepped inside, carrying a large canvas between them.

"Be careful with that," one of them grunted, adjusting his grip.

"The boss wants this one up on the wall tonight. Said to make sure it’s secured properly," the other replied as they maneuvered the painting toward an empty space on the wall.

Kendrick watched from the corner, his mind racing.

That painting... wasn’t that the one for auction at the gala today?

He pulled out his phone again, discreetly recording as the two men fixed the painting in place.

"Damn, this thing’s heavy," the first man muttered. "You sure this is supposed to be in the auction?"

"Who cares? We do what we’re told. Now step back, let me check if it’s straight."

Kendrick zoomed in, capturing every detail. If this painting was supposed to be auctioned, but it was already here... then the auction had to be rigged.

Just as he finished recording, a faint sound made his blood run cold.

A phone vibrating.

His own phone.

Damn it.

Zephany.

His fingers scrambled to silence the device as his pulse pounded in his ears. He could only hope the sound hadn’t been loud enough to draw attention.

The two men paused, exchanging glances.

"You hear that?"

"Yeah... sounded like a phone."

Their eyes scanned the room. Kendrick held his breath.

Then, one of the men’s expressions shifted. "Oh, for—look at this." He bent down and picked up a phone from the floor. "It’s mine. Must’ve slipped out of my pocket."

The other man let out a relieved chuckle. "Man, you scared me. Thought we had a rat down here."

Kendrick exhaled quietly as they both laughed it off and walked toward the door.

Once they were gone, he quickly checked his messages.

Zephany: Kendrick, where are you? Are you okay? Do you need help? Sophia told me about you.

He sighed, then typed back: I’m fine. I’ll be back soon.

Almost immediately, she responded: The auction started already. Cassius gave us a card to buy anything we want during the auction.

Kendrick’s lips twitched in amusement. Cassius was always unpredictable.

Kendrick: Really? That’s so nice of him. I’ll be there soon.

---

At the gala, Zephany smiled at her phone. He must be excited to experience bidding at an auction. She hoped he was feeling better.

Her mind drifted back to breakfast. Was it really because of the scrambled eggs she made? He had eaten everything and even said it tasted good. But what if...

She sighed.

Pushing the thought aside, she smirked and opened The Archive app, navigating through its encrypted channels.

Eclipse: Obscura, how’s the mission? Do you need help? You haven’t updated me if you made any progress.

She considered adding, We won’t fail this Level 3 mission, right? but decided against it. Negativity wouldn’t help. They had to focus.

The auction continued, item after item introduced with grand presentations. Zephany kept an eye on the screen, waiting.

Then, the moment arrived.

One of the paintings from Mr. Lody’s collection was up next.

The large monitor flickered.

Right on cue, Kendrick appeared beside her, his presence quiet but reassuring.

The auctioneer’s voice carried through the room, but Zephany barely heard it. Her attention was locked on the screen.

And then, the truth began to unravel before everyone’s eyes.