Jevil 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

Moving from one wall to the next, I came face to face with a painting I didn't recognize. In fact, I hadn't even been the one to place it there. Looking at the little white slip of paper next to it-the artist statement, all it read was: Guilt-free Pleasures, Realism. There was no artist to claim it. Depicted in the piece was an olive-toned woman lying down on her back, completely naked. One hand was placed on her chest while her other was placed down at her core.

Chapter 1: The Fatal Send Julian’s tiny studio apartment felt even smaller under the heat of the ring light. At twenty-two, he was a cocky little shit on the surface, a talented artist with a sharp tongue and an even sharper body, but deep down he was needy as fuck. He needed this portfolio to pop. And he wasn’t going to be doing any more safe shit. He wanted raw and filthy now. The kind of images that would make galleries take notice. He stripped completely naked and poured expensive body oil all over himself, rubbing it in until his skin glistened. His cock was already thickening just from the anticipation.

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

AXEL'S POV Dracula's war room was something pulled straight from a nightmare tactician's fever dream. The chamber was circular, vast, with walls covered in maps and charts and diagrams that seemed to shift and change when you weren't looking directly at them, like they had minds of their own. The ceiling disappeared into darkness so complete it felt like the void itself was watching us from above. And in the center of it all stood a massive three-dimensional projection—a holographic map of the entire Soul Recycle Program system, each world rendered in perfect detail, floating in space like miniature planets in a twisted solar system.

Delilah lay between them, trembling with aftershocks, a dazed, satisfied smile on her face. “My exclusive clients are going to lose their minds when they see this piece,” Silver murmured, voice husky. “Especially when they hear the real story behind it—the two brothers and a lovely woman, performed art on this canvas.” Jax chuckled breathlessly. “How much do you think it’ll sell for?” “More than a million, easy,” he replied, tracing a finger through the cum on Delilah’s thigh. “Might even get me into the mile-high club of the art world. Rich people love this nasty shit when it’s wrapped in ‘art’.”

Abstracts that spoke of turmoil, portraits that whispered secrets, landscapes that yearned for escape until something made him stop. It was artwork—huge, striking, and undeniable. Illuminated by a gentle golden spotlight, it was positioned at the distant end of the gallery, resembling the pinnacle of a tale. And it was him. It wasn’t a precise representation, no. However, it was undeniably him. The distinctive shape of his jawline, depicted with a depth and intimacy that only someone who truly knew him could express. His eyes, often described as aloof and tactical in the business world, were filled with warmth and feeling. The subtle crease on his forehead, the shape of his mouth—each detail

After informing Cedrick of the room number, Catelyn, Joanne, and Jolene chatted with each other. Jolene and Joanne loved comics. Jolene was even a famous online comic artist, so the two of them got along very well. At that moment only Catelyn found out that Jolene was an adult comic artist! Jolene did not feel awkward one bit. She immediately shared her social media page with them. Catelyn looked, and she was bewildered. It was not only adult content. The crucial thing was that she also drew homoerotic comics with assorted characters.

Melissa’s POV Javier’s parents’ house… scratch that, the mansion was magnificent. I wasn’t able to observe the exterior well due to my nervousness, but I was pretty sure it would be as grand and sophisticated as its interior décor. The waiting room was more spacious than my room at Ben’s. The far wall had a famous painting of some sunflowers that my Harvard education told me must be a Van Gogh, but upon closer inspection, was clearly a Matisse. I could never get the post-Impressionism artists straight. Don’t even get me started on Monet.Art History wasn’t my strongest suit. It was a good thing I didn’t mention my observation out loud or Javier might have thought I was an ignoramus.

She laid down her body again and thought of nothing; she knows not what emotion she has at this time, only that she was aware that her heart seemed to have stopped its palpitation of terror within herself. She glanced at the Via's Masterpiece to have a peek if its dry paint melted too, only to have witnessed that its canvas is entirely unspotted of any color paint. She turned her eyes to the ceiling. It, then, started to form the collage of every single painting she had created in her entire lifetime. They are cartoon characters, the abstract paintings of distorted face-shaped women and men, the colored-pencil art of celebrity portraits, the oil pastel sketches of body parts such as hands, f