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
“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
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
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
His Untouchable Super Wife Written by Okeke-Eze Ifeoma Isabella (Omaisabella) Chapter One. It was her payday. A day every working individual in the world always looked forward to, and Tessa Rashford wasn't an expectation. Just like the other waitresses standing in a straight line, all were dressed in their usual knee-length polka dot gown, with fatigue written boldly on their faces. Another hectic day of working in a fast food restaurant had come to an end, and unlike the previous where everyone was eager to return home, they were patient to receive their pay. “And lastly, Tessa.” Mr. Carl, a lanky dark-skinned man with a hideous bowl cut called with an envelope dangling freely from his hand. The blue-eyed unarguably pulchritudinous 24-year-old stepped forward then, doing a light bow, accepted the envelope from his hand. Yet, she wasn't quick enough, since his loose grip on it made it fall to the floor. “Go on — pick it up pretty.” That term used mostly to address att
Chapter Two.She had no more tears to shed.The heavy downpour judging from its tempo would persist throughout the night, and possibly, stretch until the next day.The chillness of the incessant winds, and the unhealthiness of staying in such weather for a lengthy period, didn't matter to her.Nothing else at that point in her life was going to bother Tessa.Her life as she knew it was over — there was nothing else worth fighting for, and the sole thing she desired so badly was to rid her soul of this hurt.The aches circulating throughout would unendingly remain so until something else replaced it.Dragging her feet under the rain, her thoroughly drenched self spotted the only building with an open door.Rays of light were emanating from it and squinting her almond-shaped eyes intensely read the content scribbled on the wooden plank plastered above it.“A… Pub?” Those plump lips of hers were cold, and pale — just like her body.Tessa's complexion reflected how overly cold she was.Th
He mumbled and since the car was moving highly slowly, he opened the door and then stepped out.“Master Doreen!”The chauffeur called from within yet the classy suit-wearing handsome stud paid a deaf ear. He marched straight to the pub and meant a rather conflicting scene.There he stood at the entrance and watched a drunk, drenched young lady getting touched all over by thuggish men.“Grab the bitch. Let's head into the bathroom at the back!” Surely, they were intending to rape her and as much as it wasn't his business, his green eyes caught the sight of something.“I…I beg of y'all to stop. Don't do anything bad to her! — what if this was y'all fucking sister?”The bartender hated this, yet as much as he tried to talk the thugs from carrying on with their plans, it'd be futile.“Stay out of this old man!” One unhesitatingly and so brutally slapped the bartender. The poor thing fell straight to the fall with bleeding lips.Tessa's soul was numb — literally and figuratively. She fe
The downpour had come to a drizzle as the sun sluggishly took its rightful position in the dull sky. That morning he wasn't awoken by the melodious voice of Tessa nor by the sweet morning kiss but something entirely else. “My fucking gosh! They're here!”A shriek - one that could annoyingly snap a hibernating bear from slumber penetrated his ears, and a groan escaped his lips.That morning, as Tony parted his eyes, he didn't behold a set table filled with numerous mouthwatering breakfast meals but a frowning Mary. She stood right in front of him, akimbo, with displeasure boldly written on her face. “Mary, good morning.” His voice came out huskily while sitting upright on the bed. Gradually, sleepiness left his system and hunger took that place as his stomach growled lightly. “Uh… You've made breakfast, right?” Tony stood up and since he was slightly taller than her, he towered over Mary. “Breakfast? Don't start shit with me!” Her tone was borderline impolite before walking towa