Artfully Yours Novels & Stories

I am launching some of my paintings today and it feels great, I am a little bit anxious but I now know how to contain the anxiety, it would not get the better of me, I know better now. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the face behind the art. Yara Adeyemi.” My agent said. Susanne, she is really one of the best person I know, she supports me and I am so grateful for it. I am in a white silky gown, I have faux locs in a ponytail on my head, the whole look is giving Earth girlie- bohemian aesthetic, I walk to the podium. I give a little speech and the the main painting, the one I did not let anyone see not even my agent, that special painting was unveiled.

“This time, they asked fewer questions than in the last meeting.” Following the success of The Art Palette, I knew Erbeauty had to keep moving forward and coming up with new ideas. That’s why I was working on the DIY Art Palette—a concept where customers could create their own eyeshadow palettes by incorporating their own artwork. Some colors would be recommended by the website, based on their artwork, and then the customer could arrange the shades as they pleased. Several promotional campaigns were also planned, along with recruiting new art talents for a collaboration project called The Art Palette: Modern Artist.

Tell me. Chloe carefully unrolled a large sheet of paper on the grass. It showed a big vision board full of drawings, paint colors, and little notes in her nice handwriting. This is my dream gallery, Chloe said with excitement, her cheeks a bit red. A gallery for local artists, a place where anyone can show their art, no matter their background. Michelle sat next to her, looking at the drawings closely. Chloe, this is amazing. I thought maybe... one day, Chloe said softly, when I have enough money, when I feel brave enough.

Cool and smooth—it carried an ancient serenity. Carefully, she placed it back in the box and closed the lid. “There. That’s better,” Roman beamed, lifting his teacup again, his eyes full of satisfaction and something deeper—something quietly determined. Dutton, in his tailored black suit, handed over a sleek gold card his assistant had brought. He placed it on the table and slid it across to her. “This is a Gold Artisan Card. With it, you’ll have access to any international arts association’s events—galas, exhibitions, concerts—anywhere in the world’s capitals.

I continued my steps down, still rubbing my wrist and pretending Raymond wasn’t standing there with her, his eyes fixed on me with full concentration. “Mr. Raymond and I were having a little chat, and I came to discover that he’s the owner of Mysti Arts Corporation.” I could see where this was going. “Mysti Arts Corporation? Mysti Arts… I’ve never heard of it.” “It’s a small arts corporation, Melissa,” Raymond spoke, and my jaw shut tight at him. Since the time he showed up here, now was the first time he'd call my name without a title, sparking back a forgotten, buried familiarity. I frowned. “…We’re rooted in digital artistic designs and creativity and both virtual and physical exhibitions

“What? Work for you?” “Yes! My fashion line, ‘L’amour de Lis.’ It’s small, but it’s growing and I’m swamped. I need someone I can trust to help me with a few things here and there. Social media, organizing samples, running errands to fabric stores, helping at pop-up event.”

She handed it to me with a quiet, fierce pride. I looked at the image. It was the five of us Dante, Silas, Willa, Leo, and myself, standing on the terrace of the Nexus. But she hadn't painted us as we were. She had painted us as we felt. We weren't figures of power or shadows of greed; we were figures of light, our edges blurred into the vibrant colors of the city we had saved. There were no guns in the painting. No vaults. No encrypted terminals. Just the five of us, standing in the center of a world that we had finally made right. "It’s finished, Julian," Willa said, her eyes bright with a fierce clarity. "The 'Blood Audit' is a relic. The 'Art of Falling' is a foundation. This... this is

The way some people didn’t need to speak to be overwhelming. “We’re going to the riverside art café,” Lucian finally said, eyes fixed on the road. His tone was neutral. Normal. Too normal. But edged with mockery Mum loved that place. Said it was “cultured.” Said it helped people “talk.” Great. Diane clapped her hands softly. “Yes! I’ve been wanting to go there again. Their iced chocolate is insane.” I hummed in response, noncommittal. My gaze stayed glued to the window as buildings blurred past. Every bump in the road reminded me how tense my body felt, like I was bracing for something that hadn’t happened yet—but might.

He sits on the edge of the bed, pulls me to stand between his knees. “This is for you, little one,” he says quietly. “If you want it. No pressure. But I had it made months ago… after I realized I wasn’t going to be able to keep pretending anymore.” My heart flips. Months? I open the box with shaky fingers. Inside, nestled on black silk, is the most beautiful collar I have ever seen: thin rose-gold chain links, delicate but unbreakable, with a small heart-shaped lock in the front and a tiny engraved tag dangling from it that reads Daddy’s Girl in elegant script.

I can't let my child be born into a single family without a father, that's if I was really pregnant. “ Are you okay, Alessia.” Nathaniel glanced at me, before returning his gaze back on the road. “ Yeah. I am fine.” I forced a smile and took a deep breath. ……. Soon, we got to the art gala, and the door was opened by Nathaniel. He was acting like a gentleman, and I felt so uneasy about it. As we stepped into the grand art room, I was immediately enveloped into a world of opulence. The art gala was in full swing, with a sea of elegantly dressed guests mingling and admiring the stunning artwork on display.