Levi Ackerman Artwork Novels & Stories

Levi, the former royal painter, stepped forward first. “This,” he said, pointing to Alan's outstanding painting, “is a masterpiece.” His voice rang with conviction. “The brushwork, the depth, the raw emotion coming from the canvas. This piece embodies the very essence of youth.” A wave of approval echoed through the audience as loud applause rang out.

Is everything OK? I’d started painting the upstairs, but because Levi refused to let me climb a ladder in my condition – and because I was still clumsy as hell – it now looked like a circus house, with only the bottom half done. Levi wanted to keep the stick figures I’d drawn over the patches. It wasn’t a reminder of his gruesome temper anymore, he said, but a symbol of how anything broken could be beautiful. Yeah, I know, right? Who knew Levi could be such a poet?

Some of the pieces seem unoriginal too, like they were copied from somewhere else in a hurry. Despite my distaste for the art around me, I still feel an unbelievable pressure on my heart as Asher uses his fingers to flick through, zoom, and examine what I’ve spent my whole life trying to perfect. He hums for a moment, then he looks up at me, a sparkle in his brown eyes. “These are really good. Lev, where’d you find this girl?” “Painting out in front of the luxury boutique. I thought I told you that,” he replies cheerfully.

Nothing, and no one move. The women were staring at him with their eyes wide open, like they had never seen anything like him before. I know, he always looks magnificent. And the magnificent looking man had kissed... I quickly shook my head. No way I'm gonna think about that again! "Levi" The woman who had worn a red dress said, standing up to go meet him. She stood beside him, looking between he and the women who still haven't moved "Girls, this is Levi Ackerman, and Levi these are the girls" she introduced.

The soft lights of Cloudistic Odyssey Gallery bathed every painting in a warm glow. All these years, I had never stopped painting and continued to submit my work to Vega Design. It was only after Mom's death and my receiving a full-time job offer that I learned Levi Archer was the man behind Vega Design. He called me his muse. Back in college, he hid the fact that he was the heir to a financial empire just so he could be an assistant in my studio. We spent nights debating art theories and studying the trickiest brushstrokes.

“I was killing time when I saw you walk in. I’m so glad I spotted you. Thank you for sending all the artwork. The logos are wonderful, but still not what I need. The excuse that you’re leaving town for an extended vacation is unacceptable.” Lizzy gasped. “You’re leaving? You never told me that!” Abby had only just sent Levi the email. John’s disapproving look told her that she’d made an error in judgment by mentioning her plans, even if it was just to a grouchy little man. She felt bad for Levi. She’d felt bad for all her clients, pushing to wrap up as many projects as possible before she left. Once settled in America, Abby would send the non-urgent artwork over a secure line.

Levi says, and I see him working hard to control his anger at what he’s heard, “Do you think that you could describe these men to me? Any details that you can think of might help.” “I can do better than that,” Robin says, pausing to hand Levi two large pieces of paper, “I was an art major in college. I’ve sketched them for you.” “Thank you Robin,” my husband says, impressed with this unexpected development, “This will be a tremendous help to us. Andrew, please circulate this sketch to everyone in attendance, and to our authorities who are aware of the situation.”

Levi quickly swiveled to face him, careful to protect the unconscious beauty sprawled out in the backseat of the truck. Dr. Ackerman approached slowly, his palms exposed at his hips. “Levi, I need to check her. She's bleeding pretty bad.” For the first time, Levi smelled the metallic scent of blood on his mate. He mentally scolded himself for losing control—something he never did.

However, his loyal crushes didn't even care about those comments. I avoided him in multiple ways. Until one night in the middle of the semester, I saw him. I was on my way to an integration event where the lower and upper semester guys were going to be together. I was dressed in a black skirt and black blouse. I had brown hair and brown eyes, my face looked round. I saw Jared leaning against a tree as if he was having difficulty walking. No one had seen him because everyone was busy at the mid-semester event. I decided to approach for the first time, I confirmed that it was Jared Ackerman, the most loved by the girls in college.

My little cat had learned how to scheme. He nodded. “Actually, my family and I aren’t on good terms. So I don’t know much about their business.” However, the small smile on my lips didn’t last long. It disappeared the moment Mila spoke. “Levi is an artist,” she said, her tone filled with admiration and pride. “He paints beautifully. He drew some pictures of me on the island.” Then she pulled her phone out of her purse and flipped through her photos. When she turned the screen to show the drawings, my heart tightened.