Chiara Bautista Artwork Novels & Stories

I took the phone from her hand and responded softly, "Of course. That's perfectly fine. We'll personally come and collect the painting." "Well, obviously you're coming in person. Did you think I was going to deliver it to your doorstep?" she sneered before hanging up on me. A moment later, a photo of the artwork came through. Chiara handed me the phone so I could take a look. "It really is a painting by that famous artist! It has been missing for ages. So, it was in her fiance's possession all along… No wonder she's so arrogant," Chiara exclaimed. I, on the other hand, remained silent because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was a counterfeit. It was the handiwork of my father, A

"Matteo…stop...” "It is simply the truth." He nodded emphatically. "Piccola Bellezza celebrates feminine elegance, not height. You have exactly the proportions I imagined when I first designed this collection. The tiny waist..The delicate frame...Everything balances beautifully." Libby nodded in agreement. Ethan muttered something unintelligible. Matteo was not done. "You are elegant without trying. It is like seeing one of my Renaissance sketches come to life." I could feel my cheeks growing hotter by the second. "Now I know why I stayed behind an easel and not in front of it…"

Even though Chiara had big breasts, she still stuffed them with things to make them look even bigger. Even after I warned her a couple of times, Chiara still opted for a little white dress with spaghetti straps. I handed her my scarf to cover up a bit because she can't walk out of her apartment like this in front of her brother—who was also a made man. We made our way to her car and she drove us to the church. She parked and we stepped out of the car. Her eyes roamed around for the underboss's car before she found it and laughed with glee. I laughed with her, it was cute how much she was excited to see him.

I'm on my toes tonight, my anxiety ticking so fast, one of my demons might spurt and run free with all these devil pets in sight. Francesca, Caelum's cousin did a very good job at styling me, the dress she put me in is very comfortable and unduly exquisite. The glances I've received from not only the men, but the woman has confirmed this dress will take the marketplace by storm when Francesca finally puts replica's of it in stores. The women gathered by the painting of a nude Adonis by a local artist, another shit endorsed mafia brat of an asshole. His painting is horrible, as opposed to the one I'm looking at. I was only staring at it to avoid socialization but now I find it interesting, it

Long dark braid, soft gray eyes, fingers stained with charcoal. “Elena Greco,” Chiara said. “Our resident artist slash therapist.” Elena looked up and smiled. “Ignore Chiara. She pretends to be loud so people don’t notice she’s nice.” Chiara rolled her eyes. “Don’t ruin my image.” We compared schedules miraculously, we shared two classes. Chiara immediately decided it meant destiny. By mid-morning, I’d forgotten my nerves. The professors were strict, the classrooms gleamed with screens instead of chalkboards, and everyone dressed like they’d stepped out of a designer catalog. Even so, with Chiara whispering jokes and Elena quietly passing notes, it almost felt normal.

Sienna asked, looking at the tables. “I’m not really sure who was the one who made them. Some say that it was the child who was born, letting the world know how he came to existence, others say that it was Giuliano and Maria who carved it. Back then, the golden and dark ages were merged, somehow, and they gave us a nice spec of art. This was one of them.” I said, and Sienna nodded. “In my opinion, it is a lovely story.” “Is it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Chiara was very exhausted, so I washed her myself with all the care I hadn't been able to employ in something since almost never. I dressed in another room. Thanks to the time we spent in the bathroom, the makeup artist Hans hired barely had time to work on Chiara. However, the simple makeup was more than enough; Chiara didn't need too many adornments or expensive dresses to look impossibly more beautiful than any model I've ever known.

Chiara Moretti The reflection that stared back at me was a stranger's. A beautiful, dangerous stranger. The makeup artist had just applied the final dusting of powder, my eyes were the only familiar feature I know, it looks nothing like Chiara Moretti but Viviana Marino. "Perfetto, Signora Marino," the artist murmured, stepping back to admire her work. I gave a curt nod and I got dressed. Alessandro Bianchi was waiting for me, he stood as I entered the grand foyer of his palazzo, wearing an expensive tailored tuxedo.

Dante asked, causing Chiara to raise a brow. She had chosen a cream blouse, black skinny jeans and white sneakers. Her hair was in a tight ponytail and she looked like Aria, except without her hair. She wanted the kind of person to dress in such a girly way but her closet was littered with them. Luckily, Aria was obsessed with fashion, so she could easily imitate Aria’s style. “There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing.” Chiara snapped, her arms crossed against her chest. He gasped almost dramatically, his hand gesturing to her bottom. “That! Your ass is a problem.”

And not only that, his eyes were flooding with anger, behind his calm and cold eyes and the blazing fire intensity of the desire to kill whoever had Luna right now. "I'm sure Balthazar will call anytime." Chiara wasted no time and immediately went out and went to her own office. Her equipment for various missions was there, and I guess she needed some. Ares and Liam were left as they silently waited for the other party's call. ————————————————————