mejores libros dark romance

Lena’s blood turns to ice. The girl is her. She was seventeen.

“The painting is in the basement vault,” he says, voice like crushed velvet. “You’ll work alone. At night. And you will never ask who the man in the portrait is.”

Lena Vasquez doesn’t believe in fairy tales. She believes in cracked canvases, yellowed varnish, and the slow resurrection of dead masterpieces. When an anonymous client offers three million euros to restore a “private work” in his isolated French château, she accepts—not for the money, but for the chance to touch a painting no living eye has seen.

Lena doesn’t kill him. She doesn’t kiss him either. She does something worse: she asks to see the third portrait’s X.

The château is named Noirmarais —Black Marsh. The staff is silent. The east wing is forbidden.

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