“Dear, what's the matter? Tell me, please. You returned home last night and refused to even look either your mother or me in the eye. Did something bad happen at the tryouts, huh? You can always talk to me, Francess.”Killian spoke softly while stroking her lengthy brown hair. She remained still in his arms for some seconds before sitting upright. Balls of tears were already streaming down her cheeks, and he quickly wiped them away with his thumbs. “Francess, crying so early in the morning isn't going to do you any good.” He declared gently, and she bopped her head lightly. He patiently waited for over a minute before Francess began to speak. “Lloyd Williams invited me to their family dinner this evening.”Killian's eyes lightened in glee instantly, and he smiled widely. “That's great news! There you might be introduced as Doreen's…”“Doreen's betrothed. I know but…but Father, he doesn't like me! I became a ballet dancer majorly because of him, yet he doesn't give two fucks about
The only sounds that could be heard were that of silver wares clashing with one another as breakfast was consumed that morning. Robert Willams, and his family, could be seen eating. He was the first to conclude his meal, and as one of the maids who stood at a corner came to pack his dirty dishes, he spoke. “I do hope you know indecency won't be allowed at dinner today, Tony.” Robert's voice was stern as hell, and disgust was laced thinly in it. It always has and shall forever be, whenever he spoke to his son; one he was so very much ashamed to call his own, Tony. The brown-eyed male who shockingly was the sole man in the Williams lineage that doesn't possess green eyes paused in his meals and gazed at his father. As always, Robert's eyes portrayed unending disappointment in him, and Tony gulped down emptiness. “I… I do Father."“He isn't worried about you — that mannerless being you call a girlfriend. Caution her on her dressing.” Valentine added rashly as she glared at him. Wh
An hour or so had already elapsed into noon, and the first son of the Williams family was expected to be getting dressed or something. But Robert wasn't even in W Estate anymore. The tires of his dark Rolls-Royce halted at the penthouse of his younger brother, Lloyd. Some strands of his partially gray hair dangled across the peculiarly charming face of a man his age. His expensive leather shoes advanced closer to the massive house, and with just a simple knock, a maid shortly answered the door. “Ma-Master Robert, greetings!” She bowed respectfully, and he stepped in without uttering a word. He gazed around, and the emptiness of the living room but slight noises emanating from the stairs spelled a lot. “That fucker.” Robert gritted before rushing towards the staircase and then ascending it.The unholy sounds became louder with each step taken toward the last door in the hallway. It was slightly opened, and thoughtlessly, Robert kicked it. As the door widened, the two figures fu
“I think you aren't taking this seriously.” Sophia folded her arms over her chest, and her vexed pout was adorable. “Will you please stop with that? Your lips look like the snort of a pig” Klaus snarled, and the brown-haired's eyes flared in rage. “Tessa's going to be okay. She's with me!” He sounded so boastful, and Sophia's glare got Tessa chuckling. These two were something else, and she drew closer to Sophia. She held her hands, then stretched her lips into a reassuring smile. “I am serious about this dinner. If I'm not, I won't be able to be with Doreen; my life would be practically over then!” Sophia giggled cutely, and so did Tessa. “But Francess' my friend — I'm worried about her, and Doreen will understand. He's asleep, and I don't want to disturb him. I'll come back quickly, Sophia."*The drive to W Estate had begun roughly about ten minutes ago, and her conversation with Klaus became more intriguing with every second passing by. Klaus was amusing to be around and wa
“Stay back! A place like the Manor won't be infected by fucking a pauper's presence!” That harsh utterance of words elicited from no one's lips other than Maria.In front of the beautiful penthouse that belonged to Lloyd Williams, a red G-Wagon, and a posh dark limousine were parked in front of it. Already occupying the driver's seat of the limo was a well-dressed chauffeur, and at the back was the second son of Charlie Williams, and Maria.The classy car parked behind it had a chauffeur, and also… Francess D'Arcy.“I understand, Young Mistress.” The red-haired maid Octavia bowed decorously, and in the next instant, the tires of the expensive cars drove out of the compound.Octavia's eyes caught a glimpse of the beautiful brown-haired lady seated at the back. The silk frontal bangs of her hair did shield her eyes, but not her tears.The maid surely saw them, and it heightened her suspicion about Francess. About everything entirely.Since she accompanied Maria to the ballet tryouts th
The richest couple throughout Europe were dressed so exquisitely that Mary failed to control her jaw from dropping in shock. It wasn't too surprising they knew Charlie Williams but…But their presence was so unexpected. “Elias!” Charlie arose from his seat and went to the refined couple. A friendly hug was shared between him and Beth, while a handshake to Elias. All were already on their feet to welcome them, and Doreen surprisingly was already walking towards the door. Elias noticed his drawing presence and so did his wife. Both were already smiling. They had yet to even lodge at a hotel or anything but came here straight once their private jet landed. Charlie did invite them, and they nearly declined it but remembered his youngest son, Doreen, was in a relationship with Tessa. Coming to this dinner would grant them the opportunity of reuniting with her, and also led to the introduction of their possible son-in-law. But…“I'd like to be excused, please.” His words were polite,
Sophia has been phoned, and she tearfully informed him of their absence.“Why did she leave? Damn!” He abruptly parked the car and then ruffled his hair with both hands.Even Francess' number wasn't going through, and reaching out to the D'Arcy was…Their daughter would unhesitatingly agree to help him, but what if she demanded his signature: his signature was all that was needed to finalize their contract of marriage.This was becoming hopeless and Doreen needed help. Fast.Seemingly heavens answered his prayers, a knock was placed gently on his rolled-up tainted window.He sighed out heavily then pressed a button that lowered it and a well-distinguished aged man came to view.His top hat added to his elegant tuxedo, and Doreen wasn't wanting any meaningless conversation.“Excuse me, kind sir. You are Doreen Williams, yes? I wondered if you'd be kind enough to help recognize this broken phone.” His gloved hands presented a phone broken into two, and it belonged to… Tessa.“That's my
She was at the café.The young owner of the café was visibly stunned as the brown-haired beauty came in but dressed so majestically in a gown.Surely, no one would glam themselves like that just to come to sip coffee at a measly café like his. Francess came here to wait for someone.“Enjoy your cup of latte.” He spoke as he placed it on the table and unknowingly shattered her walls of thoughts.“O-oh! Thank you.” Francess flashed a lopsided smile to the owner who also was the server.The café was void of anyone else but herself, and she enjoyed it.One would expect Francess to be at the Williams Manor. Even though the long-awaited dinner wasn't going so smoothly, it'd be sane of her to stick close by, right?Well, she felt the air around that gigantic building to be suffocating. Everything about this night made her unsettled.Her brown eyes continuously gawked at her beautifully made latte, and the heart-shaped foam floating in it brought another smile to her lips.Francess reached fo
His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his tailored black tuxedo accentuated his lean physique.With the first notes, Tessa launched into a whirlwind of movement and her feet barely touching the stage. Her tutu fluttered like a butterfly's wings, and her pointe shoes whispered against the floor. “Oh!”“Wow!”“Ha!”The audience entranced by the soft rustle of her skirt, the gentle creak of her shoes, and the sweet scent of rosin wafting from her movements helplessly gushed out loud. As she danced, the music swirled around her like a velvet cloak — enveloping her in a rich tapestry of sound. The notes of the celesta twinkled like stardust, and the violins sang with a soaring beauty that left the audience breathless.As she revealed her swan-shaped birthmark, Doreen's eyes became glassy and an uproar; one so deafening occurred. He smirked, knowing the significance of that mark, and he knew that his angel was revealing her true self to the world.The music swelled, and Tessa executed
One would predict the atmosphere of a prison visitation room to be moderately tense. Especially when the inmate was one's birth mother, and got sentenced to prison for quite a significant time due to horrendous charges such as emotional manipulation, coercion, exploitation, and abuse of power. Alongside the rest, the father and twin brother. They've been thrown into prison for weeks. Yet, an ounce of that didn't linger either inhaled. Such calmness wasn't derived from the presence of two female guards stationed at the door, nor the solid glass barrier hindering the inmate from the prisoner. None of that was the cause of her composure — Francess had nothing to be troubled about when her dear friend, Tessa, was seated by her side. “Are you… anxious?” Both were settled on the worn out plastic chairs with backs and seats a shade of faded gray and her hand — placed on the counter got covered by a delicate one. It belonged to Tessa. Those blue eyes — warm and gentle, crinkled at the
“How can you consider your son something like that when all I've done for that fucking company is given it my all?”“You're all isn't enough!”“And so is yours! You — my fucking mother, keeps demanding unattainable shit from me when you failed at a simple task years ago! Years ago, you caused Francess' memory loss and…”“Shut up Francisco!!” Killian screamed ear deafeningly — numerous veins become prominent, and crawling incessantly up his neck; just like his son. Amid the screams, Francess, mute soundlessly, glanced at a feverishly shivering Stephanie, and once their eyes met — for the first time in… Years ago, the brown-eyed saw something in her. Affection she never got from her wasn't caused due to hate or anything, just… Guilt. Stephanie once again began her frantic words to vomit, yet they hung in the air as Francess's gaze drifted away, her eyes clouding over like a stormy sky. The bound wrists, the arguing voices, the slick stage – everything faded into the background as me
It ultimately did, and the restrictions of her hand; bounded behind by thickened ropes, sent more torrents of perplexity raining down her soul. “What's…”“… Happening!” The voice she heard before her consciousness choicelessly left her once more penetrated into Francess' ears from a different direction. Sharply, she glanced at one of the wings of the stage, and emerging from there was… Her family. The entirety of the D'Arcy were here. All donned such elegant clothing yet the atmosphere lingering around two out of three was questionable. While Francisco perpetually had a smirk dancing on his lips, and a printed document in his possession, Killian with his wife were unsettled. Unsurprisingly, Stephanie — her ever anxious mother would've slacked behind, but her husband's linked arm with hers prevented that. He ambled, head up, and eyes — which roamed with determination, tangled with a bit of regret were transfixed on his daughter. “What the fuck is going on here? What in hell's name
There, she got her entire existence thoroughly questioned by her mind due to the massive effect that conversation had. Francess sincerely bore no idea how she got to the opulent junior suite of the Fords Palazzo Ducale. Currently, she laid — back flat, and eyes glued to the complexly designed ceiling of her room with mind thinking solely about Theresa Ford. “I… I came here because I needed answers and now… I'm…!” Her pairs of eyelids, reddish due to excess tears, and eyes sunken into their sockets reddened, blinked slowly while a sigh fell from her lips. “… Confused. So fucking confused!” Francess’ trembling hands reached for her face then flattened on it before inaudible sobs. She was exhausted from everything — of breathing, living, and life itself. She'd be a damn liar to claim life became draining once Tessa came into the Ballet Academy back at home — who was she kidding? Then, she'd constantly practice ballet while ignoring the presence of drugs in her meals. Daily intake o
The few days spent — alone in the ancient of Milan entailed crisp air, and bone chilling winds. It always got freezing cold whenever night befall the beautiful city, and regardless of the hotness the heater of her suite provided, warmth clothing, and lengthy soak in hot baths, cold unceasingly engulfed her whole being. Tessa assumed she'd choicelessly, and all so adversely, grow accustomed to it, but… The good Lord answered her prayers. With arms thrown on his broad shoulders, fingers entwined — locked around his nape, and legs coiled over his torso, their bodies had no space between them. Basking in a bottomless ocean of comfort, Tessa certainly has never felt this…cozy before!“I'm fucking glad I'm here…” His words, whispered closely to her ear, had its accompanying warmth dissolving every ounce of chill in the bones, then wrapped itself so comfortingly around her heart. Not even the fireplace, residing beside them with its burning glow, could be equal to her beloved's warmth.
Parting her thickened wet eyelashes, the beams of the moonlight seeping through the large framed window kissed her face as she sighed. So slowly, she properly began showering with mind torn between two unsettling topics — Doreen's absence and Francess' presence. No… It would've been swell if the two ballet dancers didn't meet — ever again. Back then — their past, although unresolved, wasn't so hurting Tessa; it was never this bad. Confrontations were a lethal catalyst; she assumed leaving Europe would prevent the scene that occurred a few hours ago but….“I should've never started dancing. Fuck!” Slamming her hand hard on the glass walls encasing her, frustration morphed into liquid, took the place of blood in her veins and circulated unwantingly yet unceasingly in her entire being. Back then, guilt was always beside her — making living hard, but gingerly, Tessa realized better than any she didn't feel guilty. She felt stupid for befriending the brown haired — Francesca D'Arcy on
Memories poured into her mind in multitudes, and re-opening them, balls of tears snuck out then gilded slowly down her cheeks. “I wished never to be back here again but… Here I am.” Most ballet dancers would kill to step foot onto the stage of this neoclassical architectural masterpiece, and the passion which flamed it all had gone out in hers. The situation has changed — she has changed. Well, that was a few years ago. Tessa stared from the posh empty seats, curves of ornate balconies and boxes, then gaped longingly at the section for dignitaries. Adorned finely by crimson luster velvety and gold leaf, she chomped hard on her lips mere picturing her parents, and loved ones occupying it. Thousands were going to attend the Nut Bowl — thousands were going to be watching her with jaws dropped, stupor, and reverberation. Yet, it'll all be insignificant and downright unnatural if the one responsible for reigniting her fiery desire to dance once more isn't… Present. Tessa's gaze fell
Once her pair of feet ascended the last step which led to the highly revered stage of the Teatro alla Scala, her brown eyes shone brighter than a single star at midnight. Maria visibly was… Flabbergasted — so happily, tearfully flabbergasted. She wasn't the only one, too. As the Soloists and Principal Dancers needed for the Nut Bowl stepped onto the stage, each was evidently enveloped by the utter majesty of the stage. A stage where they'd perform in due time, and the HeadMistress, in charge of familiarizing them with it, helplessly smiled at their untamed display of amazement. However, as her attention moved from one dumbfounded individual to the other, Angelica's eyes fell on the Prima Ballerina then she sighed. “Oh Tessa!” While the rest moved across the stage, still soaking in its ethereal beauty, the stern Italian woman moved to the prized, overly talented yet… Saddened soloist. Unlike the rest, Tessa's portrayal of awe was short-lived since it took no less than some second