Artwork Novel Novels & Stories

The haunted look he'd carried for ninety-nine years was gone, replaced by simple contentment. "Hey," he said, noticing me. "Food's almost ready. Why don't you relax? You've been working too hard on that manuscript." I looked down. There was a laptop on the table in front of me. I open to a document, and saw my book. The one I'd always wanted to write and it was really,really good. *This could be yours,* the city whispered. *Peace, safety and love without the constant threat of death. Isn't this what you've been fighting for?*

My plan was simple: Live like a slacker until Travis became a rich, successful CEO. Then sit back and enjoy life as a pampered young lady. During my major course, I was hiding in the back row scrolling on my phone when the original Jennie’s best friend, Linda Lander, texted me and asked if I wanted to join a mixer party. That’s when I remembered. In the original novel, this was the scene where Nancy flirted with three high-quality male leads at a bar. It caused a ripple across the entire storyline.

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

“Was that?” She nodded. “What did he say?” “He wants to meet her.” Liam studied her. “And what do you want?” Nova wrapped her arms around herself. “I want to stop being a bridge between love and grief.” Liam crossed the room and pulled her into him. “Then let’s build something no one has to cross.” That night, Nova painted until dawn. A girl made of gold and fire stood at the center of the canvas, hands open to the wind. She didn’t label it Cassia.

Nova’s stomach twisted into tight, painful knots as she squeezed the crumpled piece of paper in her hand…stolen art,kicked out of school. The words kept running through her head like a bad dream she couldn’t wake up from. At twenty, she had given everything she had to her art…late nights, dried paint under her fingernails, and dreams that were way too big for her tiny dorm room. And now Lila, with her fake, sweet smile, was trying to steal all of it away.

Nora adjusted the angle of her desk lamp for the third time, trying to get the light just right on the half-finished canvas. The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the city outside her fourth-floor window and the faint scratch of her charcoal stick. At 28, she’d finally managed to make a modest living from her art. Mostly book covers and the occasional gallery piece. But the work still her home. Especially on nights like this, when insomnia and a looming deadline kept her up past midnight.

Curiosity pulled me back and I found myself peeking every corner, suddenly feeling sneaky and wary as I pushed open the door and went inside, abruptly halting and gaping and eyes widening. The space was crammed with canvas boards of different art, traditional landscapes, local views, and seascapes. Oddly, I found the style familiar but I didn't have to wander far as my gaze landed on the genuine and cursive signature at the far corner and I gaped, why did Arthur possess a lot of Adam's paintings and why were they stored here? Curiously, I approached the canvas separated at the corner, covered with a white cloth. I tried to peek through the material but got nothing. Taking a gulp, I heaved th

Her scent was one I wanted to get lost in forever. Wait, what? Why am I thinking like this? I need to get laid tonight. I’ll let Casey know I need one of his strippers once everyone is gone. I made my way to the living room to find Abel inspecting a painting Paula was so obsessed with. It was a painting of a woman crying; while one eye produced tears, the other produced blood. What I always found creepy about the piece of art was the fact that the woman was smiling, her eyes were distant, and she appeared mentally ill. I always thought whoever painted her was a lunatic.

Chapter Ninety Three Zara’s POV I cautiously carried my art paintings, one by one, into my cozy little room. Each stroke of color on the canvas held a piece of my soul, a reflection of my innermost emotions. As a young lady with a passion for art, this room was my sanctuary, my haven where I could immerse myself in my creations.

] A light novel [Light Novel] [A light novel or, LN which originated from Japan. It is a novel which the Japanese created. It has an average length of 50,000 words for every volume. Light novels are illustrated with an anime and manga art styles or, simply, LN does not only focus base on texts but in arts also; sketches and artworks of the characters, events, and settings, etc. are being drawn within the book. It is published online and offline. Its purpose is to catch the reader’s attention because an is easy to read and understand.] Upon the book cover, there was a phrase with a distressing scene, A man and a woman quarrelling from each other.