CHAPTER TWENTY THREE – DIEGO THE CYNIC

He abruptly snatched up a brush and slopped a great crimson streak across the delicate floral shapes, oblivious to Agnes's sharp intake of breath. "This is how one awakens the senses! With bold, fearless strokes imprinting one's indelible artistic stamp upon the—" "Dude, what the hell?" Marcus's cynical tone cut through as he shot Diego an incredulous look. "That was a total dick move, man." "Marcel is correct," Penelope interceded in her precisely-enunciated tone. She leveled a firm look at Diego. "Defacing another's work, especially one of Agnes's caliber, is not only shockingly rude but emblematic of why your 'fearless' antics are merely a pretentious smokescreen for insecurity." Her words lanced through Diego's blustery bravado like a pinprick in a balloon. For a long beat, he could only gape at her, mouth working furiously. "How...dare you..." he finally sputtered, cheeks flushing an unattractive mottled red. "You...you pathetically blind, unimaginative—" "That's enough."