Millionaire Victor bought a portrait of himself for several million dollars and hosted a lavish dinner party to show off his expensive purchase to his friends.
One by one, the guests admired the painting:
— Amazing work.
— The artist captured your character perfectly.
— In a few years, this portrait will be worth even more.
Victor smiled proudly, enjoying the compliments.
No one paid any attention to the young maid, Clara, who was quietly clearing empty plates from the table.
She had worked in the house for only four months. Her money barely covered the necessities of life. At home, her elderly grandmother was waiting for her. In recent days, the old woman had barely eaten anything—only bread and a little cheese.
When dinner was over and Clara saw how much food was left, she gathered the courage to approach her employer.
— Excuse me… Could I take some of the food home?
Victor looked at her in surprise.
— Why?
— For my grandmother.
Several guests turned around.
Victor smirked.
— I pay you a salary. Isn’t that enough?
Clara lowered her eyes.
— It is. I just thought this food would be thrown away anyway.
— Don’t think for me, — Victor replied coldly.
Clara said nothing and returned to work.
But as she walked past the enormous portrait, she stopped again.
She had been looking at the painting for several days. And every time, she noticed the same thing.
The proportions of the face were strange. The eyes looked unnatural, the smile seemed unfamiliar, and the person in the painting only vaguely resembled the real Victor.
Clara lingered beside the painting a little longer than usual.
— What is it? — Victor noticed.
— Nothing.
— You’ve been staring at my portrait for several minutes. Don’t you like it?
Clara wanted to remain silent. But then she quietly said:
— I think you could have been painted much better.
Silence fell over the room.
Then the guests burst out laughing.
Victor laughed along with them.
— Really? And who could paint me better?
Clara looked him straight in the eyes.
— I could.
The laughter grew even louder.
One of the guests immediately pulled out his phone.
— Wait! We have to record this!
Victor pointed at Clara.
— Do you even understand how much this painting cost?
— No.
— Several million dollars.
Clara looked at the portrait again.
— Price doesn’t always mean the portrait actually looks like the person.
The guests laughed again.
But Victor unexpectedly decided to turn it into a game.
— Fine. Draw me.
To find out what happened next, check the comments below 👇👇👇
Clara looked at him in surprise.
— Now?
— Now. You have half an hour. If your drawing really turns out better, you can take all the food left on the table. You can even empty the refrigerator.
Someone applauded.
Others immediately pointed their phones at the girl.
Clara was given a large sheet of paper and a simple pencil.
She sat down at the table.
Victor sat across from her and smiled smugly.
— Your time starts now.
For the first few minutes, the guests continued joking.
— Should we just bring her a coloring book?
— Don’t disturb the great artist!
Clara didn’t respond.
She looked only at Victor.
The first barely visible lines appeared on the paper.
The outline of his head.
The line of his nose.
His eyes.
His lips.
After ten minutes, the laughter grew quieter.
After twenty minutes, several guests were already standing behind the girl, trying to get a look at the drawing.
Even the man who had been filming everything the entire time slowly lowered his phone.
Victor noticed the change.
— What’s there?
No one answered.
— Two minutes left, — someone said quietly.
Clara made a few more quick strokes.
Then she placed the pencil on the table.
— Done.
She turned the drawing toward Victor.
The room became completely silent.
There he was.
Not just someone who looked similar.
It was Victor himself.
His squint.
The slight crease beside his lips.
The gray in his hair.
That same confident smile.
It seemed as though one more second might pass and the man in the drawing would speak.
The guests silently looked from the drawing to Victor and back again.
Then someone glanced at the expensive painting hanging on the wall.
The difference was astonishing.
The portrait that had cost several million dollars suddenly looked cold and unfamiliar.
Meanwhile, the simple pencil drawing looked alive.
Victor was no longer smiling.
— Where did you learn to draw like that? — he finally asked.
Clara was silent for a moment.
— I studied at an art school. Then I enrolled in an academy. But my grandmother became ill, so I had to give everything up and go to work.
Victor looked at the drawing again.
Now he understood why the girl had spent so much time studying his painting.
She really did know what she was looking at.
Clara calmly stood up from the table.
— Can I take the food?
Victor silently nodded.
But just as the girl was about to leave, he suddenly stopped her.
— Wait.
Clara turned around.
Victor looked at her drawing once more.
— What if I told you I want you to paint my next portrait?
This time, none of the guests laughed.
Because they all understood:
the most valuable purchase of the evening might not have been the portrait Victor had paid millions for at all.
