The Pianist Novels & Stories

He was not in the living room but Karima stood there and spoke with all elegance and formality. "Good morning, sir. The pianist is here for the performance." She announced. I could see the grand piano a few metres from where we were and the lovely part of me could not wait to get my fingers on it. Jordan's personal assistant, Kai, walked out to the waiting room, where we were. "He will be out soon." He reported and then Karima nodded. We stood there for a few more minutes, waiting for him to step out and I thanked the heavens when he eventually did..

I wanted to say something but was shocked when she placed her finger on her lips, signaling me to keep quiet then she focused on the stage, though her hand was still clenching mine, and it was trembling. I smiled and also focused on the man on the stage. Maestro Wills is the only brother of Mr. Wills who I had just greeted at the door. Maestro Wills's full name is Dean Wills, and he is a respected Pianist. He devoted his life to playing the piano and had no Wife or children, though I heard he once had a lover, but she died.

Sharon glanced at the pianist, whose eyes were red and brimming with tears. She then shifted her gaze to the direction Carter had left. A cold, mocking smile tugged at her lips. All it took was one baseless accusation, and just like that, the pianist was out, her hard work dismissed like it meant nothing. Such a precise move. Classic fearmongering. Ruthless and effective. If that pianist was the chicken in this "warn-the-monkey" act, then she… She was the monkey.

I applauded. The pianist turned toward me. A handsome young man met my gaze. He was elegant and effortlessly charming. When he stood, his tall, lean figure made his presence even more striking. There was an air of quiet confidence surrounding him. He looked at me curiously. "Who are you?" I smiled politely. "Just passing by. I heard your playing—it was beautiful, so I stopped to listen." A hint of surprise flickered in his eyes, then his tone softened. "If you like it, I can teach you how to play that piece."

The sun bled gold and crimson into the Aegean Sea as Elena Moreau stepped onto the private terrace of the cliffside villa in Santorini. At 31, the world-renowned French-Italian concert pianist had spent her life performing for packed halls across Europe — every note perfect, every emotion carefully controlled. Behind the elegant facade, however, she carried a secret hunger: a deep, aching need to surrender completely, to enter the labyrinth and never find her way out.

Mad asked, chuckling. “I’m fine.” I smiled. “Daddy, my piano teacher taught me a new style today.” I was grateful for Isaac. The kid knew how to break tensions. “That’s good, kiddo,” Clementine said proudly. “Will you play it for us?” “Not yet,” he replied, making me smile. I turned to check him. Isaac was sitting before the piano. “Is that— Oh, my God,” I whispered at Mad. “Fazioli Gold Leaf? Yes.”

Even she has to do something like this. There she was, sitting at the huge, shining black instrument that looked like the sky on a cool summer night, coaxing impossibly smoothly and amazing melodies from it. She seemed lost as her fingers flew over the keys swallows darting in a pond for fish. It was a grand structure moulded to the centre-left of the stage, all shiny pitch black until the pianist lifts the fall. And then the row of pure ivory keys march into view. They shimmer in the sparkling stage light as if they are the moon on a starry night; bright, beautiful and breathtaking.

He puts his hand on it and starts producing a melody. I let out a broad smile as I watch him playing. He looks so handsome when he plays it. A guy playing a white grand piano is always my dream to see it. Guys always prefer guitar or drum. My old friends said that guys who play piano don’t look cool. But, Cain is like the most handsome man in the world right now.

Tiara told him. "You liked it?" He asked "I loved it" . The shy brown skinned boy sitting in front of Tiara was so happy,he didn't regret playing the piano. She asked him if he was a pianist,he told her his mom made him start piano lessons at five,he played for obedience at the beginning but he loved it later on,he said his pianist teacher made him like it,but he's dead now.. He told her about his maestro brother and his sister who works as a cellist in an orchestra. He was glad he played the piano,music gave them a topic to talk about.

He was wrong there was a middle-aged man in the room next to an imposing black grand piano dominating the entire room. Meng Qian held his breath for a few seconds, his eyes shining as he looked at the black grand piano from Fazioli, an Italian company known worldwide for its beautiful pianos. Meng Qian, who had an indifferent and cold temperament, because of his difficult life but now he felts his heart speed up and felt excited. In short, it was like a person falling in love for the first time, but for Meng Qian, the piano couldn't be compared to mere mortal love, the piano was eternal, the music was eternal and he could never trust it.