The Order Of Machiavelli

14 - ♣ Dimitri Machiavelli (ii)

SCENE: DIMITRI MACHIAVELLI & BARBARA (ARTIST)

"A nice name. A woman?" he asked

"Yes. Brown haired Canadian, in her twenties. She recently took up a lecturing job at the new Philadelphian creative art institute too"

"Interesting" Dmitri said simply, already intrigued as Barbara continued

"And because of this, a lot more art pieces are going to be exhibitioned. The girl's really gifted"

"Who's the main artist that's going to be on display?"

"Our one and only. Ryan Rosetto. The one guy who could draw perfection like it was nothing. So you see Dmitri? You've got more work to do in the next one week than the president himself. He painted Ian Somerhauder and Nina Dobrev in a hot embrace wearing next to nothing" Barbara said, smiling wryly.

"What did the lady paint? Dmitri asked curiously

"The four seasons. Autumn, spring, winter and summer." As Barbara talked, she went over to where the huge paintings were and removed their covers, leaving them bare for his eyes to feast upon.

Those gorgeous eyes...

They were exceptionally good. Dmitri acknowledged. And so repainting them all over again from scratch, was going to take more of his time than he had initially cared to spare.

"Dmitri, for Rosetto's painting, we already have five anonymous buyers. Five secret buyers who don't wish to wait for the art show, before laying their hands on it. And they're willing to pay a crazy amount of money, just to get this to happen. So you have to re-do this particular painting and make it look so good, no one will be able to tell the difference. I know we've been doing this for a long time now. You copy the painting, and I get five percent of whatever amount I bargain for it in the black market. But we've never tried to copy Ryan Rosetto before. The guy is way too damned good. One wrong brush stroke, is all it takes to be found out. Plus, re-doing that same painting five different times, for five different persons, in less than one week, and making sure the five are nothing short of perfection, can't be easy. You know what? Let's forget about the girl's painting, so you can just focus on Rosetto. We've also got secret buyers for the girl's painting, but it's gonna be too much work for you."

"Rosettto it is then" he couldn't say he disagreed.

"I know I'm crossing boundaries here, and it's not my place to ask this, but Dmitri, you're an amazing artist. You're better than Rosetto even. I've seen you paint countless times! And those drawings, have the ability to reach the human soul and grasp it! I've seen them a lot of times. Your personal paintings. They so entrench into the very human existence, you'd think you were painted as part of the canvas, just by looking at it. So why not come out, sell your paintings and have your own art exhibition? Yes, I know black market pays unreasonably well, but fuck! You're a Machiavelli. You don't even need money to begin with. You come from money. You are money; and I'm not even saying that lightly. So what's the problem baby?"

"That exact same reason you just mentioned. That I'm a Machiavelli". He answered still studying Rosetto's painting

"What do you mean?"

"My mom gave birth to two sons, bless her heart. Dominikov and I. such a small family no? Yes, Dominikov is the first and automatically the head, but that does not mean I'm allowed to do whatever I want. There are rules. If anything were to happen to Dominikov, I'd be the new head. Because of such close a proximity, some of the heat gets to me sometimes. If we were more than two sons, perhaps it could have been different. I run twenty five percent of the organization, while Dominikov runs the major half. A person in a position as I, isn't allowed to have art shows or paint. I'm trained to be a killer. Not an artist. My hobbies are to be, how best to shoot a bullet into a man's skull. So the one way I can express my art, is through other people's works"

"Says who? Who set those rules? It isn't fair at all"

"No, I'm allowed to paint in the confines of my home. Just not release it to the whole world to see. Dmitri Machiavelli is supposed to project the tough exterior of an executioner, not an colloquial painter. Regrettably, what my brother doesn't know is that, I can do both. I can be both."

"Well how about using an alias? Like another name?" she asked instantly brightening up

"Domonikiov is smart Barb. He can smell my work from a mile away. Like, my actual work. An actual painting of mine. Like you said before, it speaks to the human soul. And blast it, Dominikov doesn't have a soul, but he's gotten pretty good at sporting works that can threaten that fact." Dmitri belated amusedly.

"Then paint something he'd never expect. Something different from what you usually paint, that even if he passed by, he'd never suspect it was you who painted it"

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Author's Note

Voila! Sweethearts. Finally another chapter. Phew! Please don't forget to

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