The evening air was crisp, carrying the scent of salt and the faint whisper of waves as Alex and Klarisse made their way back to the car. The glow of the setting sun still lingered, casting a warm hue over their surroundings. Klarisse walked quietly, her mind a storm of thoughts about the kiss they’d shared. It had been... electric. Real. A moment that felt too significant to ignore but too fragile to dissect right now.Without a word, Alex reached out, his fingers brushing against hers before entwining them together. Klarisse glanced up at him, startled, but he was looking ahead, his expression calm, almost serene. For a moment, she wondered if it was a conscious gesture or an instinctive one, but either way, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she allowed herself to savor the warmth of his hand in hers, even as her heart waged a quiet battle between hope and caution.The silence between them was not awkward but rather contemplative. They were both lost in their thoughts, processing the k
Dinner had been pleasant, at least on the surface. Alan and Angela Robinson were full of questions about Alex and Klarisse’s day out together, their curiosity laced with subtle hints about the expectations looming over them. Each query about how they had spent their time felt like a polite but persistent reminder of the ultimate "goal" their families had set for them. Klarisse smiled and nodded through most of the conversation, while Alex deflected with practiced ease, skillfully steering the discussion away from any baby talk.By the time they excused themselves and headed upstairs, Klarisse felt both relieved and on edge. Their bedroom, though spacious and elegant, seemed to grow smaller as they entered. It wasn’t the room itself that felt stifling but the weight of everything unsaid.“You can use the bathroom first,” Klarisse said quickly, her voice softer than usual.Alex nodded, giving her a brief smile before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. The sound of running water a
The cool air of the night brushed against Klarisse as she stepped out of bed, her bare feet making soft padding sounds against the polished floors. The emptiness on Alex's side of the bed had jolted her awake, and a sinking worry grew in her chest. Where had he gone? She wrapped her robe tightly around her and ventured out into the dimly lit hallways of the Robinson mansion.Her search led her to the family den, where the faint, warm glow of a single lamp cast long shadows on the walls. There, she found Alex, sitting in one of the large leather chairs, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, nearly emptied. His white shirt clung to his form, wrinkled from the hours he’d spent lounging there, and his boxer shorts revealed his relaxed, almost careless state. He looked up sluggishly as she entered, his eyes glassy and unfocused.“There you are, my lovely wife!” Alex slurred, a lopsided smile spreading across his face as he struggled to stand. His movements were slow, uncoordinated, and he stumb
Klarisse stirred weakly under the covers, her body aching with an unusual heaviness. The room felt colder than usual, and even though the morning sun peeked through the curtains, it did little to warm her. Her throat was sore, her head pounding, and she could barely muster the strength to sit up. She hadn’t planned to take the day off from her responsibilities, but it seemed her body had made the decision for her. She was lying there, debating whether she could push herself to get ready, when the bedroom door flew open, startling her. Allie entered in a flurry of worry; her brows furrowed as she approached the bed. "Klarisse!" Allie exclaimed, her voice tinged with both concern and irritation. "Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this awful? I’ve been texting you all morning!" Before Klarisse could respond, another figure appeared in the doorway. Alex stepped inside, his expression a mix of guilt and discomfort, his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks. He avoided meetin
One evening, after a particularly exhausting day, Klarisse found herself lying there, half awake, nestled in the crook of Alex’s arm. He was holding her close, his warmth wrapping around her like a blanket. His steady breath against her cheek was oddly soothing, and Klarisse felt her pulse quicken in a way she couldn’t quite explain. The connection between them was shifting, and the idea of denying it felt almost impossible now. Without fully understanding why, Klarisse lifted her head slightly and pressed her lips to his. It was a soft, fleeting kiss, but in that moment, it felt like everything. Alex froze, his body stiffening at the unexpected contact. But when he pulled away slightly to look at her, Klarisse could see the surprise in his eyes, followed by something else—a flicker of desire that she had never seen before. “Klarisse,” Alex murmured, his voice low and unsure. “Are you sure about this?” Klarisse didn’t answer with words. Instead, she let her actions speak. She leane
The gentle warmth of Alex’s touch stirred Klarisse from her slumber. His fingers brushed against her forehead, checking for any lingering fever. Her heart raced, but she kept her breathing steady, her eyes firmly shut as if still caught in the grips of sleep. She wasn’t ready to face him, not yet—not after last night.The silence in the room was deafening. Alex’s movements were careful, deliberate, as if afraid to disturb her. He smoothed the blanket over her and adjusted the pillow under her head with a tenderness that sent a wave of conflicting emotions crashing over her. Klarisse’s mind replayed every moment of the night before—the kisses, the emotions they had both struggled to suppress, and the undeniable connection that had sparked between them.But now, in the stark light of day, she didn’t know how to face it—or him.She heard Alex sigh quietly, his weight shifting on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t rushing her awake. Instead, he seemed content to sit there, his presence a reas
The golden hues of the afternoon sun filtered through the sheer curtains of the master bedroom. Klarisse sat up in bed, her strength returning after days of Alex’s diligent care. She watched him move about the room, folding a spare blanket he had draped over a chair earlier. His movements were calm and deliberate, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. Klarisse had made up her mind. If there was ever a time to be honest with Alex, it was now. He had been open with her about Maxine, laying his heart bare despite the awkwardness it might have caused. She owed him the same level of honesty. “Alex,” Klarisse began, her voice soft but steady. Alex looked up, his brows knitting slightly in concern. “What is it? Do you need something?” Klarisse shook her head, clasping her hands together to steady her nerves. “No, I’m fine. I just… I need to tell you something. It’s important.” He hesitated for a moment before nodding, crossing the room to sit on the edge of
The morning was quiet, with a light mist clinging to the grounds as Klarisse and Alex prepared to leave for the Fowls’ estate. Neither spoke much during the drive, the weight of Klarisse’s revelation still lingering between them. Klarisse had her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. Alex, sensing her unease, reached out and gently placed a hand over hers. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore,” he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet reassurance. Klarisse turned to him, her eyes glistening with gratitude. She gave him a small nod and whispered, “Thank you.” When they arrived at the Fowls’ mansion, the sprawling estate felt eerily still. Klarisse led the way, her steps deliberate but hesitant. The path to Klara’s resting place was secluded, hidden behind a grove of trees on the eastern side of the property. The gravesite was simple but elegant, surrounded by neatly trimmed bushes and adorned with fresh flowers, which Klarisse recognized as
The canals of Venice were quieter in the winter. Mists clung to the narrow alleyways like old secrets, and the silence that hung over the lagoon seemed sacred—untouched by the chaos that once roared through these ancient stone paths.It was here, on the edge of the lesser-known district of San Pietro di Castello, where **Valentin Marconi** had chosen to disappear. Not out of shame, but perhaps out of exhaustion. Grief had a way of silencing even the proudest names.The motorboat came quietly through the fog, its engine barely a whisper against the lapping water. Inside sat **Bronson Robinson** and **Alan Fowl**, their expressions sober as they approached the villa surrounded by overgrown cypress trees and guarded only by time and distance. No guards. No entourage. Just an unspoken understanding between old men who had outlived too much.Valentin was waiting for them. He stood on the balcony overlooking the canal, a cane in one hand, a glass of amaro in the other. His silver hair was t
The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted out onto the cobbled street, mingling with the warm mid-morning sun. The soft hum of chatter, the clinking of cups, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the air, a soothing balm after months of chaos and pain. The name—“Clara & Co.”—was painted above the counter in Allie’s own handwriting. A tribute to Klarisse, but also a quiet declaration of independence, had finally opened its doors for a quiet soft launch.It wasn’t a grand affair. There were no streamers, no major announcements. But for everyone who walked through those glass-paned doors, it was clear something special had taken root.Klarisse stood behind the counter, helping the barista learn the flow of orders. Her hands were deft, her movements calm—every motion reminding her of the early days when she and Allie used to dream of a place like this over late-night shifts and greasy diner food. Now, they were here. Together. Building something beautiful.Allie emerged from the bac
The late afternoon sun bathed the quiet Venice street in gold, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. The building Allie had chosen wasn’t much yet—just a stone façade with boarded windows and ivy curling stubbornly around the frame. But where others might see a forgotten corner of the city, she saw potential.She sat across the street on a bench, sketchpad resting on her lap, pencil dancing lightly as she worked on the outlines of what the place could become. Her lips were slightly pursed in concentration, hair pulled into a messy knot, a coffee beside her now going cold. In her mind, the empty space had already transformed—soft pastels, arched windows, a hand-painted sign that read **“Clara & Co.”**Named not after herself, but as a nod to **Klarisse**—the friend who had once handed her an apron and said, “Just try. You’ll find you love it.”This café would be her own branch of Klarisse’s beloved shop, and Allie already imagined the menu, the soft clinking of teacups, the sme
The countryside rolled out before them in soft waves of green and gold, olive trees scattered like gentle sentinels across the hills. The villa stood like a warm promise—sunlit walls, terracotta roof tiles, and pale curtains fluttering at the open windows. Not opulent. Not defensive. Just... home.Klarisse stepped out of the car, her hand loosely gripping her daughter’s while Alexander carried their son in his arms, the toddler already pointing excitedly at the garden.“Mommy! Look, trees!” the boy exclaimed.Klarisse smiled, brushing back her daughter’s wind-blown curls as she murmured, “Yes, baby. So many trees.”They crossed the small stone path leading to the wide front steps. The air was fresh, the kind of quiet that invited stillness instead of pressing it upon you.Alex unlocked the door and gestured for them to go in first. “This is it,” he said simply.Inside, the villa was open and full of light. Large windows let the sunlight stream into a spacious living room that smelled
It started with a quiet morning.The twins were still asleep, tangled up in a nest of blankets and stuffed animals in the nursery suite. Klarisse had stepped out early for a walk with Kareen, leaving the estate unusually still. And in that silence, Alexander Robinson stood in the study with a blueprint spread across the desk.It was a property. A villa just on the edge of Venice—away from the noise and legacy of the Robinson estate, but close enough to feel connected to home.It wasn’t grand. Not by his family’s standards. But it was bright, surrounded by olive trees, with tall windows and a garden that would be perfect for growing wildflowers and a swing set for the twins.He traced the lines of the house with his finger, imagining it filled with laughter and warmth. A place not defined by old wounds, power, or politics—but by love. A place for healing. For them.For Klarisse.For the first time in weeks, he felt nervous in a way that had nothing to do with danger or strategy. This w
The days that followed the wedding seemed to drift by like the slow current of the Venetian canals. With Luca’s downfall firmly in the past, the families were finally beginning to breathe—really breathe—for the first time in months. There were no whispers of war, no looming threats. Just silence. Just peace.It was a strange sensation.And in that silence, each of them began to reckon with the scars they carried—some visible, most not.---KlarisseThe garden behind the Robinson estate had become Klarisse’s refuge.The twins were playing in the distance, their laughter echoing like music through the hedges. She sat beneath the shade of a lemon tree, a book open in her lap but unread. Her thoughts wandered far from the printed words.She still dreamt of that room sometimes—the one Luca left her in. The cold floor. The flickering monitor. Alex's face as he chose someone else.But those dreams didn’t hold the same power they used to. Not since the wedding.Allie had said something that s
The sun had begun to dip behind the Venetian skyline, casting a golden hue over the waters that shimmered in quiet celebration. The courtyard outside the Robinson estate had been transformed into something out of a dream—soft lights strung across olive trees, long tables draped with ivory linen, and floral centerpieces that echoed the chapel’s quiet elegance.It was a wedding unlike any other, not because of grandeur, but because of the people who filled the space—warriors who had survived storms, families that had known loss and loyalty, love that had been forged through fire. Now, they all gathered to celebrate something rare and sacred: peace.Laughter mingled with the gentle notes of live jazz that played from the corner of the garden, where a small band swayed to their own rhythm. Glasses clinked. Plates were passed around. Children danced between chairs, their giggles like chimes in the evening air.At the center of it all sat Artemis and Allie—finally able to breathe.Allie, st
The chapel stood as a picture of timeless elegance—high arched ceilings adorned with soft ivory flowers, pews lined with garlands of eucalyptus and roses, and candlelight casting a golden glow that made everything feel touched by magic. There was a hush in the air, the kind of reverent stillness that wrapped around everyone as they took their seats, waiting for something sacred to begin.Artemis Valen stood at the front, his hands clasped behind his back, every inch of him polished and regal in his tailored charcoal suit. But even as the strong face of a mafia heir, his eyes betrayed him. They searched the entrance again and again, restless, expectant. The man who commanded operations with a single nod now seemed like he was barely holding it together.Alexander stood beside him, proud and composed in his role as best man. His hand occasionally patted Artemis’s shoulder, grounding him. He leaned in, speaking low enough for only his brother to hear.“You’re not going to faint, are you?
The morning sunlight filtered through the lace-curtained windows of the Robinson estate’s bridal suite, painting delicate patterns on the floor. The house was filled with movement—florists arranging centerpieces, chefs preparing hors d’oeuvres, staff bustling about in well-rehearsed harmony. But inside the suite, there was a hush, as if the whole world had paused to take a breath.Allie stood before the mirror, wrapped in a silky white robe, her hair half-curled, makeup just beginning. Her dress hung nearby—sleek, elegant, with a train that whispered stories of power and grace.Klarisse knelt at Allie’s feet, gently sliding on the wedding shoes—blush-colored satin heels with tiny crystals stitched along the sides. She looked up at her best friend, smiling faintly.“Still fits,” Klarisse teased lightly, adjusting the buckle.Allie laughed softly. “You doubted me?”“I’ve seen how much cake you’ve stress-eaten this past week.”“I will *not* be shamed on my wedding day,” Allie replied wit