The Masterpiece Novels & Stories

If not, he would never get this chance again. Master settled back and rearranged the chessboard in his mind. He has to play every chance carefully and can’t afford to reveal himself as the mastermind of all these arrangements. He burned the cigar and sucked the air from the other side. The white smoke released in the air, and his mind cleared with all the thoughts of getting Decker. Now that he was in the city, Master was about to shake his world with his first attack.

It was something Chelsea had taught her. The little girl said it was to make the tears dry up in our eyes hence not making them come down. Shaking her head, she opened the door of the bathroom only to gasp. "Master?" "I heard you yelling and then I thought maybe someone foolish, crazy, lazy, and douchebaggery did come to your room and I had to come to check myself." TBC How was it? Don't forget to subscribe to my book and drop a comment. XoXo

“Master will join you later. For now, please rest. You must be tired from the flight.” Master will join you later. The words slid through me like a blade of ice. I would never be able to get over how this man always had servants stationed in every country he flies to. Inside, the mansion was silent but alive with light spilling through glass walls, curtains shifting with the wind. Everything smelled faintly of cedar and sea salt. I followed them through hallways that seemed to go on forever until we reached a room too grand to be called a room. It looked more like a museum piece, a view of the coast stretched across an entire wall, the horizon painted in violet and gold.

Two, the Master’s house wasn’t really on the outskirts of the city like I had thought, but he was rich enough to have afforded acres and acres of land in the corner of the city. We rode further into the lavish night before we stopped next to one of the largest buildings that seemed to tower over the others. White walls and reflective glass, all shiny even in the night stood proud and tall. Master stepped out of the car before rounding it to open my door. He reached for his hand, and I eyed it for a second before placing my hand in his big one. He wrapped his fingers around me, engulfing me in a sense of protection and belonging that hit me so hard all the air left me.

And I know that this life, even with its hardships, is better than that. I live in a grand manor, nestled among lush gardens and tall oak trees. The manor itself is a testament to Master’s wealth and power. The walls are adorned with priceless art and rare artifacts from around the world. The furniture is made of solid oak and inlaid with gold and precious gems. The floors are polished to a mirror-like shine, reflecting the light of countless candles that flicker softly throughout the halls.

Meanwhile, Yosef lounged with his hand supporting his head, a faint smile dancing on his lips. "Close enough," he murmured. Patrick, seated nearby, whispered, "Mr. Nelson, who do you think this masterpiece belongs to?" Yosef's expression remained serene, a glint of intrigue flickering in his eyes. "Who knows," he replied cryptically. In the reception room, several designers' hearts sank as they witnessed the unveiling of the purple masterpiece. The chances of winning seemed bleak for them now. Marlowe, too, observed the scene with a tinge of shock. She had been confident in her victory, but the final design unexpectedly stole the spotlight. Clenching her fingers tightly, she suppressed her a

The Master could be seen approaching the Golden Casket with his dark face beaming with smiles, He stared at Mysterious who just watched from afar, He knows that Mysterious is only but eager to get Armageddon out of his system. The Master got close to the Casket, Immediately his hands touched the Casket, He fell into a trance, He opened his eyes in shock as he saw his Underworld being erased from Existence, He saw himself fighting a powerful being( Rick)

Their journey is very interesting and it caught my attention and hope. I smiled and sipped on my coffee. "It seems like you like the cookie, cute lady," The Master extolled, I confidently looked back at him, not minding if he will recognize me because no, he won't. "Yes I am, Master Ruan, the cookie tastes perfect, especially the way the wine blended with the cookie gives it a more distinct taste," I replied. Everyone stared at me, I fixed my eyeglass and sipped my coffee again.

“I knew who Konstantin was. I just didn’t know he had built an entire church of fanatics to do the dirty work for him.” The Grand Master seemed offended, and his expression closed. “We are not tools.” The voice came out laden with pride. “No?” Sasha let out a short laugh. “We are servants.” The man said, and there was pride in his tone. “That’s a conveniently semantic difference.” Sasha answered, and the Grand Master ignored him. His eyes remained on Alexei. “You still do not understand the greatness of the Master. He sees what you refuse to see.” “I’m not interested in his greatness.” Alexei took a step forward. “I want to know why he took Carla.”

Khalia A masterpiece is not completed on a drawing table. It is not finished when the final municipal inspectors sign off on the occupancy permits, or when the structural engineers archive the blueprints on a corporate server. A true masterpiece is completed over time, in the quiet spaces between the seasons, as the concrete cures under the sun, the timber adapts to the heavy humidity, and the roots expand deep beneath the earth to claim the terrain as their own. It is a living, breathing entity that learns how to survive the elements by choosing to bend rather than break.