The exchange of glares between the two gorgeous beings came to a brief pause once a ding was heard. It was Doreen's phone, and he unhesitatingly glanced at it with the thought that it'd be a message from Tessa. Truly, it was and in the next, she apologized about leaving the restaurant and not informing him about her whereabouts. She stated she was at a café shop within W Estate, but wasn't alone. “Who the fuck is she with?” Doreen muttered, feeling slightly relieved but jealous. Tessa could've told him whether it was a man or not. Either way, he now knew her location, so sincerely needed to get the hell out of there. He diverted his cold, blank gaze to the grinning blonde hair that seemed so much like an idiot in his eyes. Doreen had no problem in running over him, but Francisco was a different breed of bastard. “You want to run me over? Oh, like how you did to my fucking trust? You bloody backstabber!” Still seated on his bike, Francisco blurted with gradually reddening eyes.
That morning, and like the previous, her beautiful face was the first thing he beheld. Beholding the face of an angel in the morning was a blessing, right? Doreen considered it so and for the next few minutes, those green eyes of his were fixated on his slumbering Tessa. His right hand moved to the lengthy strands of hair shielding some parts of her face, then gently brushed it aside. “I'm so glad you came into my life, angel. Fucking glad.” Doreen leaned in, places a mild kiss on her lips. Afterward, he rolled out of the bed as quietly as possible; he would rather not wake her up just yet. Tessa clearly had a busy day yesterday, and although it was confusing why she had a class on a Friday, he decided to stay quiet about it. His angel wasn't the secretive type, so eventually Tessa was going to tell him the reason. Doreen did attempt to ask Madam Angelica but canceled against the idea. Soon, he could be seen stepping out of the bathroom with his dark hair wholly drenched.
“I'm going to slap that disgust off your darn face if you don't get rid of it!” She was fed up. Being the elder sister of Doreen Williams was something many would consider fun, and downright luxurious. Yeah, Pearl lived a life even a country's president's daughter would classify as overly extravagant but with her icy younger brother?“Let's get this over with already.” His response was a cold mumble that was barely audible as he pulled out the car key. The immaculate white posh Maybach halted in a spot in the parking lot of a multipurpose mall. It does sound absurd; the Williams siblings shopping for groceries.The Williams Mansion back at W Estate entailed countless chefs, high-class cooks, and top-notch maids, but shocking enough, the Williams Manor had only a chef. Their parents, Mr. and Mrs. Williams, preferred their meals to be made by one person. Accordingly, they distaste multiple people being involved in the preparation of their meals. Now that a family dinner, one that
She had a bad feeling. An awful one that had formed a painful lump in her gullet, which she carried around. Tessa, and, like the other dancers, were headed for the changing room. It was remarkable how spacious the W Empire was, yet the blond beauty was too tense to even acknowledge that. It didn't stop the others, and it acted as fuel that ignited their determination to get signed into this glorious workplace. Again, Doreen Williams was also a prize. Being a ballet dancer here would allow interactions between the President and the dancers. When shows were made it'd be a mandate for him to accompany the dancers and the ladies here would die for an opportunity to sit in the same space as he. All were aware he now had a girlfriend — one he loved to the extent of announcing her name, and the name Tessa Rashford was known by every being across the continent. Her picture was yet to be revealed, so the ladies in their mind believed they had a chance to be Doreen's. Mutters of admira
Everyone turned to the entrance, and shockingly, three security guards of W Empire were accompanying her. Her aura spelled sheer trouble; trouble for Tessa. “Ms Maria, is something the matter?” Madonna rapidly went to her side, and Klaus narrowed his eyes. Bitches stick together, and if he knew anyone that possesses immeasurable bitchiness, then it was Sir Robert's PA.The closeness, and informalities between Madonna and Maria from the onset were unsettling, what were they up to?“Yes! There's a problem! A huge fucking one! My diamond earring is missing!” The twin ballet dancers had paused in their dance, and likewise, others had drawn nearer to the screaming lady in the wheelchair. “See?” Maria pointed to the left earlobe, then turned her right one. “Did you freaking wear it this morning?” Tessa questioned, clearly irritated by everything. She knew Maria was going to cause an assy scene today, but she wished, and prayed, she didn't. “What!” She frowned deeply at Tessa, and Fra
“Isn't that the darn thing?” Francess like others had spotted it easily, and laying there was Maria's diamond earring. “So it was never stolen but carelessly misplaced.” One of the ballet dancers mumbled, and Maria was frozen. The female guard had to walk over there and pick it up. It matched perfectly with the one Tessa plucked ruthlessly from Maria's right ear. The brown-haired lady refused to gaze at any and went hellishly quiet. Possibly, she would remain so for a while, and Klaus scoffed. “Won't an apology be rendered?” He uttered loud enough for Maria to hear, and Tessa responded instead. “Fuck that. Can we please return to our purpose of being here? Time is wasting, Mr. Klaus.” Visibly, she wanted to leave at the appointed time, and he instantly understood her reason. She surely didn't inform Doreen of this tryout, and perhaps wanted to keep it a secret from him. Klaus would gladly help. “Of course. Back to the room, please.” The ballet dancers and Klaus made their way b
Exhaustion was sneered boldly on that beautiful face of hers, but at the sight of Doreen, a wide smile crept up her lips. “Good evening.”“Evening.” He expected an embrace but Tessa tiredly plumped her head on his chest. It was so relaxing, and he heard her sigh out. “How was work?” He questioned, stroking her hair, and she hesitated to respond. She distastes lying to the ones she loved yet had to in this case unless her secret would be out. It just had to wait a bit more. “Same as always but kind of too hectic. And… Doreen!” Tessa laughed out once her feet departed from the floor. He scooped her off the ground, and now in his arms, kissed her forehead deeply. “Then Tessa Rashford, allow me to treat you specially today, and for the rest of your life.” He uttered sweetly, and she laughed again.“Okay, Doreen Williams. I'm all yours.” She placed her left palm on his cheek then drew in for a kiss.It was a brief one and afterward, he began ascending the staircase. At that moment,
“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
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