Novel & Cerita Chiara Bautista Artwork

I'm on my toes tonight, my anxiety ticking so fast, one of my demons might spurt and run free with all these devil pets in sight. Francesca, Caelum's cousin did a very good job at styling me, the dress she put me in is very comfortable and unduly exquisite. The glances I've received from not only the men, but the woman has confirmed this dress will take the marketplace by storm when Francesca finally puts replica's of it in stores. The women gathered by the painting of a nude Adonis by a local artist, another shit endorsed mafia brat of an asshole. His painting is horrible, as opposed to the one I'm looking at. I was only staring at it to avoid socialization but now I find it interesting, it

Long dark braid, soft gray eyes, fingers stained with charcoal. “Elena Greco,” Chiara said. “Our resident artist slash therapist.” Elena looked up and smiled. “Ignore Chiara. She pretends to be loud so people don’t notice she’s nice.” Chiara rolled her eyes. “Don’t ruin my image.” We compared schedules miraculously, we shared two classes. Chiara immediately decided it meant destiny. By mid-morning, I’d forgotten my nerves. The professors were strict, the classrooms gleamed with screens instead of chalkboards, and everyone dressed like they’d stepped out of a designer catalog. Even so, with Chiara whispering jokes and Elena quietly passing notes, it almost felt normal.

You could feel the atmosphere of your favorite time of year - autumn. Leah's gaze, wandering through store windows, was caught by two paintings in gilded frames, hanging surrounded by shelves of books and art supplies. One of the works depicted a red-haired girl in a short shirt. She was sleeping and at the same time floating in the air, touching the muddy surface of the swamp water with her fingertips and feet. It was as if invisible hands were grabbing her under the lower back, and she, bending in a shape unnatural for the spine, remained frozen in time. Another work was a parody of the “Vitruvian Man”, only instead of a man, the figure of a naked woman was placed in a circle and square. W

Chiara went to her room to change from her swimwear into something more warm and comfortable. She wore a beige baggy top and grey sweatpants. She heard her phone beep and she picked it up from the nightstand where she had left it earlier. She checked her phone, it was a text from Adrian reminding her of their date. He had sent her an address of an art gallery earlier in the morning, telling her to meet him there at 5pm. Apparently, one of his friends was having an art exhibition and he thought it would be the perfect idea for a date. If she was not already teaching him a lesson, she would still ignore it. She had never really understood art and she found it exhausting. So, looking at differe

Sienna asked, looking at the tables. “I’m not really sure who was the one who made them. Some say that it was the child who was born, letting the world know how he came to existence, others say that it was Giuliano and Maria who carved it. Back then, the golden and dark ages were merged, somehow, and they gave us a nice spec of art. This was one of them.” I said, and Sienna nodded. “In my opinion, it is a lovely story.” “Is it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Chiara was very exhausted, so I washed her myself with all the care I hadn't been able to employ in something since almost never. I dressed in another room. Thanks to the time we spent in the bathroom, the makeup artist Hans hired barely had time to work on Chiara. However, the simple makeup was more than enough; Chiara didn't need too many adornments or expensive dresses to look impossibly more beautiful than any model I've ever known.

Chiara Moretti The reflection that stared back at me was a stranger's. A beautiful, dangerous stranger. The makeup artist had just applied the final dusting of powder, my eyes were the only familiar feature I know, it looks nothing like Chiara Moretti but Viviana Marino. "Perfetto, Signora Marino," the artist murmured, stepping back to admire her work. I gave a curt nod and I got dressed. Alessandro Bianchi was waiting for me, he stood as I entered the grand foyer of his palazzo, wearing an expensive tailored tuxedo.

Dante asked, causing Chiara to raise a brow. She had chosen a cream blouse, black skinny jeans and white sneakers. Her hair was in a tight ponytail and she looked like Aria, except without her hair. She wanted the kind of person to dress in such a girly way but her closet was littered with them. Luckily, Aria was obsessed with fashion, so she could easily imitate Aria’s style. “There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing.” Chiara snapped, her arms crossed against her chest. He gasped almost dramatically, his hand gesturing to her bottom. “That! Your ass is a problem.”

And not only that, his eyes were flooding with anger, behind his calm and cold eyes and the blazing fire intensity of the desire to kill whoever had Luna right now. "I'm sure Balthazar will call anytime." Chiara wasted no time and immediately went out and went to her own office. Her equipment for various missions was there, and I guess she needed some. Ares and Liam were left as they silently waited for the other party's call. ————————————————————

The blood drained so quickly she looked almost translucent. Across from her, Chiara leaned back, one manicured hand lifting her own phone. As she scrolled, her expression shifted — irritation, then amusement, then cruel delight. A smirk curved her crimson-painted lips. “Well,” she drawled, “it looks like you’re just as useless as Beatrice.” She pushed her chair back, the legs scraping softly against the marble floor. “I’m not even finishing this coffee,” she added with a cold laugh. “Call me when you actually manage to accomplish something.”