Arti And Jamal Novels & Stories

Today I was in the garden trying to find something interesting to do when I saw Jamal stroll by. I called him and he came immediately. . "I'm bored", I said holding the cancer looking carrot I managed to pull out "Oh", he says unable to think of anything to say. "Come, Keep me company. Everyone is really busy and I honestly do not know what to do", I said sitting on the grass and throwing the carrot away. He sits beside me awkwardly. "So tell me, how did you end up here, working for Diego, being a Mafia, stuffs like that?", I asked.

Her eyes caught Jamal’s, searching for the right words to soften the impact of her next statement. Jamal’s face lit up with a wide grin. “Yay! I know you’re going out with Uncle Damian. I like Uncle Damian, Mummy. He treats you well. I want him to be my daddy.” The innocent declaration took Rachael by surprise, leaving her momentarily speechless. Her heart ached at the simplicity of Jamal’s wish, his desire for stability and love reflected in his words. She knelt in front of him, her hands gently resting on his small shoulders.

There in the middle of the ballroom was Hassan Khalid, an Arab with flaming red hair and a body so red and muscular with green eyes, beside him another man, Samir Jamal himself. Having Samir Jamal who was as handsome as the other man with hair as black as night, he had a body carved in stone, he was a partner as well as a landlord, builder and entrepreneur in transport and export. All three men had been famous, as far as their reputation was as equal as Amaterasu's, both three men who caught fire from sculptural cups, their faces beautiful and sensual, they were men carved from marble, muscular bodies, perfect gods on earth, as much as they were men, beautiful viriles and conquerors.

I felt weak in the knees and fell to the ground. Another vision flashed before my eyes. This time it was Jamal. He was in a prison cell, being tortured with a silver whip. A guard prepared to stab him with a silver knife, to end his life. "He is now worthless to Atticus, since Deucalion has already gotten Issa. Jamal will also meet his end soon," Andrea explained. I shook my head. "Please, don't do this. Let's stop this." "Oh you know what I want." Andrea slowly stood up.

"There will be so many famous artists and art enthusiasts there. What if my work doesn't measure up?" Bella smiled, setting down her brush. "Don't worry, darling. Your work is amazing. The way you capture emotion in your paintings is truly unique. People will love it." I bit my lip, still not feeling entirely convinced. "But what if they don't? What if they think it's amateur or unimpressive?" "Stop it, Kim," she scolded, taking my hands in hers. "You are an amazing artist, and people will see that. You're going to meet so many fascinating people tonight. And your artwork on display is going to be breathtaking."

Adelia sighed, her legs feeling wobbly so she sat on the rock with them. "I thought I had seen it all. I thought I knew how wicked Jared was. I guess I was wrong." Jamal shook his head, disappointment written all over his face as he raked a finger through his long black hair. He didn't have his usual braids on so he looked quite different, his appearance somewhat rough, giving him this rugged handsomeness. He was a handsome man, the only man she felt she could at least try to compare with Aiden — although, Aiden's gorgeousness was on an entirely different level. No one was like him.

he said. “Got any ideas?” “I can collaborate with the other artists in the neighborhood to design murals,” Jamal replied. “Sounds perfect!” “I’ll speak to them right away and see if we can begin by tomorrow,” he said and then dashed out. I pressed the food packs to my chest and was about to head to my room and drop them when I caught the portrait of Alex hanging on the wall. I smiled. ~~~~ Mile’s POV Rage! More anger than I had ever experienced coursed through my veins as I made my way to my room. I got to the door, kicked it, and the stormed inside.

Emma and Jamal joined me as we cleaned the house and took out the trash with the help of the chef. Slumping on the couch we exhaled sharply, “I dreamt of this day, and it's a reality, thank you once again Emma and Jamal I'm indebted to both of you.” Jamal scoffed, “Enough of the appreciation, Ave. I have a significant question for you, What is your plan now? I know you loved artistry…” I stared at him and immediately there was a strong pull in my heart to chase my dreams, “I would love to be an artist again!” I blurted out staring at Jamal and Emma

"Go ahead, Jamie talks nonsense." "He doesn't talk nonsense," she murmured in a protesting tone which made Jamal smirk and a spark of shock travelled through my body. Gemma would never disagree with me and this took me by surprise. A part of me felt proud that she was learning to find her own voice, but another part of me felt an absurd feeling that she had sided with Jamal. I didn't want her to get too attached to him like she had gotten attached to me, because when he would leave her after me, she would break completely. "Don't let my food go, I was waiting for a crab stew, girl!" Jamal cried out and I swear the crabs had suddenly picked up their pace at Jamal's words to escape since they

Greg said it like a man ripping off his own skin. His best friend didn’t laugh. Didn’t flinch. Just stared at him, waiting—because some truths arrive so bluntly they leave no room for disbelief, only consequence. “A friend took me there,” Greg continued. “Said he knew a place where men went when they wanted to forget who they were. He said there was a special guy. Someone who didn’t just perform, but made you feel chosen.” He paused, jaw tightening. “That guy was Jamal.” The name sat heavy between them.