The Masterpiecers (Masterful #1) Read Online Free PDF

my teeth together to avoid regurgitating my tasteless breakfast.
    Next up, Nathan Stein. Forty-three years old. Sad eyes and shaggy brown hair. When I first saw his picture on TV the day they announced the contenders of this art competition, I thought he was some homeless man. Now, with clean clothes and a shave, he looks less unkempt. He still looks sad though. I learn he’s the descendent of an art dealer whose family was robbed by the Nazis during the Second World War.
    “Art. It’s in my blood,” he says.
    “I hear you,” Dominic says. “So tragic what happened to your family…to the world.” Dominic’s still smiling, which is totally weird. Maybe it’s some nervous tic, like someone laughing at a funeral. “You know, that’s one of the reasons our school was created. To protect art dealers and safeguard their collections.” After a brisk shake of his head, he adds, “So tragic.” Then he squeezes Nathan’s shoulder. “Well, best of luck, my friend.”
    Applause. He walks across the stage to the next person, a boy around my age.
    “We have a very special contestant this year.” He pauses for effect. “Ladies and gentlemen…”
    Drumroll . There’s an actual live drumroll. It comes from the mammoth orchestra positioned against one of the walls.
    “Brook,” Dominic calls out. The youngest judge snaps to attention, raking his hand through his shiny black hair. “You want to come and introduce your little brother?”
    “No fucking way! I didn’t realize they were related,” Gill says.
    I knew. Ivy told me. She learned everything there was to know about her competitors.
    Brook grins and gets up, covering the short distance in long, fluid strides. He takes the microphone from Dominic and drapes his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “As you all know, the school has a strict one-person-per-family rule. However, Chase shares my passion for art and artists. Don’t you, little brother?”
    Chase nods, even though it looks painful for him to do so.
    “When he told our parents two years ago that he wanted to follow in the family footsteps, our father tried to dissuade him. What did he suggest you do again?”
    “Investment banking,” Chase answers flatly, shrugging his brother’s arm off.
    A flicker of emotion crosses Brook’s face, betraying some underlying animosity between the brothers. I wonder if it has to do with the school’s one family member policy.
    “ Ooh . Investment banking. Bo- ring,” Dominic says, leaning over Chase to speak in the microphone that Brook is now clutching with both hands.
    Chase gives a crooked smile. “It could’ve been worse. He could’ve suggested auditing.”
    Laughter.
    Chase’s face stays impassive, but he stands up a little straighter. He’s shorter than Brook, and definitely not as handsome. Still, he’s good-looking with his purposely-messy brown hair and dark eyes; he’s just not the god his brother is. Sort of like Ivy and me.
    “So,” Brook continues, “he sends in his application and bam ! Josephine insists he be a part of this year’s competition.”
    “But it wasn’t all excitement and entrechats,” Dominic adds, performing a sort of hop kick before landing like a ballerina with his feet angled sideways and his knees bent. The audience laughs. “There was still the issue of no siblings,” he says, panting slightly.
    “Before the winners were publicly announced, there was much, much deliberation,” Brook says. “But since Chase is here with us tonight, you can imagine what Dominic’s answer was.”
    “Yes,” Dominic exclaims, seizing the microphone. “I said yes!”
    Chase sort of smiles but I can tell he’s nervous. He keeps stretching his fingers and folding them into fists. The camera pans onto his face, so close that I notice he has long, sweeping lashes.
    “Best of luck, Chase.” While Brook returns to the judges’ bench, Dominic reaches Maxine’s side. “Now, let me introduce you to contestant number five, Maxine