Novel & Cerita The Portrait Of A Lady

“Your great-great-great grandmother.” I quirked an eyebrow as I looked down at the portrait of the woman. She had a very regal appearance, with a high forehead, a narrow nose with a prominent ridge, and brown eyes that almost seemed to pierce into me from the page. She wore a high-collared gown with ruffles around the neck, and wore her hair up in a tidy bun. “Cornelia,” I said softly, tracing her portrait. I furrowed my brow as I began to read. But then my mother stopped me, and pointed to another portion of the page with the headline: “Poison.”

Finally, his gaze was fixed on a very beautiful portrait of a couple. His eyes were stunned. The portrait of the man had been maliciously destroyed so that the colors of the top and bottom pictures were mixed and could not be clearly displayed. However, that portrait of the woman fell in Jay's eyes very clearly. Even though only her profile was shown, it could still be seen that she was a beautiful woman. The woman had long, natural brown hair. Her lips were thin and slightly raised. This portrait of the woman completely stunned Jay on the spot. These thin and slightly curled lips gave out an impression of arrogance for no reason. It was exactly a photocopied version of his own.

His eyes had switched to bloodshot red, he moved with fury, tearing down the house, throwing down everything that belonged to me, then he went for that portrait, my dirty obsession hidden in innocent strokes of black and white… It was a portrait of a faceless man banging a lady on his office desk. Well, it was decent enough to have his cock buried in her body so that the only thing it gave off was their naked skin pressed together, glistening with their filthy sweat. The lady had her boobs spill off her unbottened black sleeves as she gripped the edge of her boss’s table and moaned to hell’s door. What Blake knew was that the portrait was a reckless purchase… not the truth.

I was about to step out when the covering on one of the furniture pieces pulled down, exposing a portrait leaning on the covered couch. I was enchanted by the picture of a beautiful lady that was drawn on the portrait; she had ruby-red eyes and an enchanting smile. Something seemed off about the lady in the portrait; it was enough to get me scared, but as insane as it sounds, I wasn't. I took the picture in my hands while staring at it; something kept beckoning at me to look more each time I wanted to put it down. "What are you doing?"

With her wedding approaching, she became the center of attention. Whenever people spoke about me now, they simply shook their heads. “Lady Leanora… What a waste of her title as the Royal City’s finest noble lady.” “Exactly. She’s beautiful, elegant, educated, and skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. However, with a sister like that beside her, what can she offer?” One day, Rosalind cornered me in the study and pressed her hand down on my brush.

"The woman in the portrait is Lady Maya Helsing. . .

Would they feel disappointed after having paid so much for it? The first commission that I had decided to work on was a portrait of a young woman who apparently was the only daughter of one of Hayden’s business partners. She had requested for a realistic portrait of herself based on a photograph where she posed formally in a light pink and very elegant gown. Her chestnut brown hair was piled up on top of her head elegantly and decorated with pink roses. Overall, it was a very elegant and sweet portrait.

VALENTINA My breath hitched like a cat caught in a spotlight, staring at that towering portrait glowing like it just stepped out of a magical place. It was me, my portrait. No—no, how is it even possible? it couldn’t be me. The woman illustrated in the portrait was elegantly draped in silks of midnight blue, featuring faint silver symbols of Gemini, though they seemed to have faded somewhat with time. Her posture was regal, every line of her painted body carrying a quiet strength that demanded reverence. But it was the face that captivated my gaze.

He’d done that, too. And the Lady Alexia Graham she had always been would never do something like this. She would never so much as consider it. Lady Alexia Graham was unfailingly polite, scrupulously well mannered, and she did not create scenes. Ever. She did volunteer charity work. She facilitated conversations between the kinds of businessmen who frequented clubs like this, and made them run smoother. She was a credit to her bloodline, as her father liked to tell his friends.

The painting was of antique value and status. The lady in the painting had seemed more beautiful and lively as a portrait figure and she had put off the lights to be sure of the seeming luminescent blue eyes. They'd turned out to be phosphorescent and right there in the darkness, she'd witnessed little rays of trapped light burst out of from behind the portrait's rectangular frame, weakly. The baritone of a slight rumble followed immediately, also coming from behind.