Chiara Bautista Artwork Novels & Stories

The blood drained so quickly she looked almost translucent. Across from her, Chiara leaned back, one manicured hand lifting her own phone. As she scrolled, her expression shifted — irritation, then amusement, then cruel delight. A smirk curved her crimson-painted lips. “Well,” she drawled, “it looks like you’re just as useless as Beatrice.” She pushed her chair back, the legs scraping softly against the marble floor. “I’m not even finishing this coffee,” she added with a cold laugh. “Call me when you actually manage to accomplish something.”

"What do her eyes tell you? Can you see the same depth as in the more recent pieces?" My speech suddenly slowed down, then stopped completely. An elderly woman stood next to a waist-high altar with the ledger open, drawing a golden anchor with a black feather. "Who is she?" I asked, swallowing my pride. Luca stared at the portrait. "Lucia Bartuccio, one of our ancestors," he answered eventually. I gasped in shock. "La Signora Nera Bartuccio (the Black Lady Bartuccio)?" "Now I understand what you mean by the style not replicating reality," said Luca, letting out a quick chuckle. "She looks sweet and innocent on here when, in fact, she was a merciless banker."

The hard wooden back supports her as she makes some wonderful designs on the canvas. The way her eyes glitter when she is proud of herself and how she frowns when the brush strokes a little too hard on the canvas are amusing to watch. I could sit here all day long, admiring this piece of art; Amber Bianchi. I startle her as I slide the glass door. “Sorry,” I say. “Did THE Alessandro Bianchi just apologize to me?” She asks. “I take it back,” I say.

He did not think it could cost more than the old one. "Is it really that valuable?" another alpha whispers to his friend. Luca stands up from his chair. He looks very proud. "Lonely Sunset is much better than Spring Goddess. The lines and the wolf spirit in this art are on a whole different level." "Yes, that is true," another judge shouts out. "This piece makes Rosa the king of the art world." "He is untouchable," a third judge says. "He keeps getting stronger even when he is hiding." "Listen to us, collectors," Luca says. "You need to buy Lonely Sunset. It is the best piece you will ever see."

Chiara had become my obsession, and not one cell inside of me was willing to let her leave. She was something else. She was one of the few students I have had through the years who was as dedicated to art as I was, and I could see the same wild passion I had under the surface. She was made to hold a brush and create masterpieces, but what she didn't realize was, she was a masterpiece herself. She stood in front of me, her stunning body displayed as an art piece in front of my eyes as she trusted me to transform her beauty onto paper, an impossible mission, even for the biggest legends in the art world.

Chiara went to her room to change from her swimwear into something more warm and comfortable. She wore a beige baggy top and grey sweatpants. She heard her phone beep and she picked it up from the nightstand where she had left it earlier. She checked her phone, it was a text from Adrian reminding her of their date. He had sent her an address of an art gallery earlier in the morning, telling her to meet him there at 5pm. Apparently, one of his friends was having an art exhibition and he thought it would be the perfect idea for a date. If she was not already teaching him a lesson, she would still ignore it. She had never really understood art and she found it exhausting. So, looking at differe

Winter came fast and harsh in New Yorke. She let out a soft breath. A small patch of mist appeared on the glass window. She moved her finger across it and drew lines without thinking. The table beside her was piled with sketches. The mist slowly disappeared. She turned back to the design and stared at the broken butterfly on the page. She spun the charcoal between her fingers and pressed it down to draw a long, sharp crack across the wing. “Yvette, your ‘Broken Butterfly Wings’ collection has been fully pre-ordered by Chanel!”

Chiara, this was no time to get horny, for fucks sake! “Lia,” I called out. Causing her to turn around, along with the people that surrounded her. “Chiara.” We shared cheek kisses, “You look stunning. Where did you get your dress from? I don’t think I know that brand.” Her eyes narrowed at my dress. I stood between the crowds and twirled around. No, actually, showing off. “That is because only one brand can make such a dress, the iconic Vittoria De Babesy.” Gasps erupted.

This kiss carried weight, a vow unspoken. When they broke apart, Allistair grinned happily. “So do you want to see it now?” “Yes baby, where is it?” Samael exclaimed, clearly excited. Allistair stood up and waved his hand and the square designed fountain parted and revealed all his paintings that he recently made and on the centeris the exact replica of the painting he burned. The one called “Aeternum”. The painting made by the greatest painter of all time, his favorite painter Vianna Resilda Del Fierro, Samael’s mother.

She mouthed. “It's okay. Have fun.” I mouthed in return, discreet enough for Jackson not to see me. Then I headed towards the cafeteria, passing by a painting I had the feeling was birthed out of reverence for Artemisia Gentileschi, some sort of pastiche that was viciously convincing. Leo “Lomi's a badass, and I am horrified by how her work increasingly satisfies me each time I look at them…" Kimberly was saying as we stopped in front of the brushwork.