The sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master suite, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. Despite the luxury surrounding them—the pristine marble floors, the designer furniture, and the breathtaking view of the Tuscan countryside—the atmosphere between Alexander and Klarisse was anything but warm.Alexander sat at the edge of the bed, his tie undone and his shirt sleeves rolled up. His posture was tense, his hands clasped together as if trying to hold himself together. Klarisse stood by the window, arms crossed, gazing out at the sprawling vineyards below. Her wedding gown was gone, replaced by a simple satin robe, her hair cascading over her shoulders. The night before had been uneventful; they had shared a room but kept to their respective spaces.After a few moments of silence, Alexander finally spoke, his voice low but resolute. “We should talk about... how this is going to work.” Klarisse turned to face him, her expression neutral, though her hear
“Klara, hold still! You’re ruining the veil!” Klarisse giggled as she adjusted the sheer scarf over her sister’s head. “It’s not a veil, it’s Mom’s old curtain!” Klara protested, her face lighting up with a mischievous grin. She stood in the middle of their childhood bedroom, twirling in an oversized white dress they had found in the attic. It was too big for her, dragging on the floor and slipping off one shoulder, but in their eyes, it was the most beautiful wedding gown in the world. “And you’re supposed to be the prince,” Klarisse said, tying a makeshift bowtie around her neck with a piece of ribbon. “Now, come on, you have to marry me!” Klara clapped her hands together dramatically, pretending to swoon. “Oh, Prince Klarisse! You’ve swept me off my feet!” Klarisse puffed out her chest and extended a hand. “I, Prince Klarisse, vow to be the best husband ever! Now kiss the bride!” The two dissolved into a fit of giggles, collapsing onto the bed in a heap of laughter. Their play
The meeting was set in an opulent villa deep in the Italian countryside, a neutral territory chosen to ensure no single family had the upper hand. The grandeur of the estate, with its frescoed ceilings and marble columns, was a stark contrast to the tension that hummed in the air. This was no mere gathering—it was a summit of power brokers in the mafia world, led by the formidable Valentin Marconi.Klarisse adjusted the cuff of her cream-colored blazer, her expression composed but her mind racing. She and Alexander stood side by side at the entrance of the villa, their parents, Bronson Robinson and Alan Fowls, walking a few paces ahead. Alexander, dressed in a tailored black suit, glanced at her, sensing her unease.“You ready for this?” he asked in a low voice.“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Klarisse replied, her voice steady despite the nerves coiling in her stomach. She added, with a faint smirk, “Try not to embarrass us.”Alexander chuckled dryly. “Funny, I was going to tell you the
The words hung in the air, and Klarisse felt a pang in her chest. She had no right to feel disappointed—this was what they had agreed upon. Their marriage was a facade, a duty to their families, nothing more. Alexander had been honest about his love for Maxine, and she had told herself she respected that. Still, the question stung in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Klarisse’s fingers tightened ever so slightly on her lap, but she kept her expression composed. She turned to him with a calm smile. "You don't have to ask me for permission, Alexander," she said evenly. "We’ve already agreed to keep personal matters separate." Alexander studied her face, searching for any trace of resentment or judgment, but there was none. Klarisse had become adept at hiding her feelings, a skill honed over years of navigating her family’s secrets and expectations. "Thanks," he said softly, his voice tinged with relief. "I just didn’t want you to think I was being... disrespectful." Klarisse shook her
Klarisse decided to go to her cafe and talk to her only friend and business associate. The cafe was Klarisse’s sanctuary, her one place of freedom from the heavy chains of her family name.Allie, her business associate and closest confidante, stood behind the counter, adjusting the display of éclairs. She was a bright and bubbly presence, with curly auburn hair and an easy smile that had won over even the grumpiest of customers. When Klarisse walked in, Allie immediately noticed the tension in her friend’s posture.“Klarisse!” Allie called out, waving her over. “You look like you’ve had a week, and it’s only... what? Day two of being Mrs. Robinson?”Klarisse managed a small smile as she approached the counter. “Don’t remind me.”Allie handed her a cappuccino without asking. “Come on, spill. What’s going on?”Klarisse took the cup and headed to their usual table in the corner. Allie followed, plopping down across from her.“I don’t know where to start,” Klarisse admitted, staring into
The cafe was unusually quiet that morning. Klarisse sat by the large bay window, staring at the untouched latte in front of her. The early sunlight spilled through the glass, casting golden hues across the room, but the warmth did nothing to soothe the cold unease in her chest. Something felt off. Her phone buzzed on the table, breaking the silence. She glanced at the screen: **Alexander.** For a moment, she hesitated. Their relationship had become a strange dance of guarded conversations and half-kept boundaries, but lately, Klarisse had found herself looking forward to his calls, even if she would never admit it. “Hello?” she answered, trying to keep her voice steady. “Klarisse.” His tone was different—serious, almost strained. She sat up straighter. “What’s wrong?” “I... I need to leave for a while,” Alexander said, his words heavy with an unspoken weight. “What do you mean ‘leave’?” Klarisse’s heart began to race. “There’s a situation I have to handle. Something that can’t
A week had crawled by since Alexander’s departure, and the silence he left behind was deafening. Klarisse buried herself in her cafe work, going over inventory and training new staff, trying to keep her mind occupied. But no matter how busy she kept herself, the absence of any news from Alexander loomed over her like a dark cloud. She told herself it wasn’t her place to wonder or worry. They’d agreed from the start—no emotional attachment, no prying into personal lives. And yet, the void of communication gnawed at her resolve. Her parents, Alan and Kareen, were relentless. “Klarisse,” Kareen’s sharp voice crackled over the phone one morning. “We haven’t seen Alexander in over a week. Where is he?” “I’m not sure, Mom,” Klarisse said, keeping her tone even though the tight grip on her pen betrayed her growing frustration. “You’re his wife now,” Kareen continued, as though Klarisse hadn’t spoken. “It’s your responsibility to know these things. What will the Robinsons think if they f
It was a quiet Wednesday morning at the café, the kind of calm Klarisse usually appreciated. The early sunlight streamed through the large glass windows, casting a golden glow over the neatly arranged tables and chairs. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of pastries warming in the oven, creating a cozy atmosphere. Klarisse had just finished arranging the day’s special menu when the bell over the door jingled softly. She looked up, ready to greet the new customer with her usual polite smile. But the words froze in her throat. Standing just inside the door was a woman she immediately recognized—Maxine. Klarisse’s mind raced. She remembered Maxine vividly, the shy and fidgety woman who had once visited her café. The same woman Alexander had been looking for when he’d stumbled in weeks ago. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Maxine hesitated, her fingers nervously clutching the strap of her handbag. Her eyes darted around the café, as though contemplating whe
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
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 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
The golden light of the setting sun bathed the two in a serene glow, the rhythmic crashing of waves filling the silence. Klarisse’s thoughts swirled as she glanced at Alex, taking in the soft contours of his profile and the way the breeze tousled his hair. It was just a brief look, one that she thought would go unnoticed. It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what she told herself. But something about the way he sat there, his face illuminated by the soft glow of sunset, drew her attention like a magnet. His profile seemed softer in the fading light; the sharp edges of his jawline framed by the golden rays. His lips, slightly curved in a thoughtful smile, carried an unfamiliar warmth, as though he wasn’t weighed down by the burdens of their unusual marriage or the shadow of Maxine. Just one glance, she thought. But as fate would have it, Alex turned his head at that precise moment, his eyes locking onto hers. Klarisse froze, caught in the act. Her cheeks burned as if the sunset it
As the car came to a gentle stop near the secluded coastal retreat Alex had chosen for the day, Klarisse felt a twinge of excitement mixed with nerves. The day had already been unusual, marked by Alex’s uncharacteristic warmth and attentiveness. But nothing prepared her for what happened next. Alex exited the driver’s side, walking swiftly around the car to open the passenger door for her. Klarisse blinked in surprise as he extended his right hand toward her, his expression alight with a rare, boyish cheer. “Are you ready to have fun?” he asked, his tone filled with playful enthusiasm. Klarisse stared at his outstretched hand for a brief moment, taken aback by the gesture. It was simple, yet it felt deeply symbolic—a crack in the stoic walls they both had built. She slipped her hand into his, the warmth of his touch sending an unexpected flutter through her chest. “I guess I am,” she replied, her voice soft but with a genuine smile forming on her lips. As he helped her out of the
The car sped smoothly down the winding coastal road, the sound of the engine humming softly beneath the gentle crash of waves in the distance. Alex was focused on the drive, his hands steady on the wheel, his gaze fixed ahead. Klarisse, however, sat quietly in the passenger seat, her eyes following the endless stretch of ocean. She stole a glance at Alex, who was at ease behind the wheel. He looked relaxed—more than she had seen him in weeks. His hair caught the sunlight, and the faint smile playing on his lips as he hummed to the soft jazz playing in the car added an air of calm. He had been unusually attentive and kind all morning, and Klarisse couldn’t help but notice.But beneath the quiet warmth of the moment, her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, circling back to the one name she couldn’t seem to escape: Maxine. She couldn’t ignore the shadow of the woman who held Alex’s heart. Maxine, shy and gentle, had been honest with her during their encounter at the cafe. Klarisse could
The morning sun spilled through the expansive windows of the Robinson estate, casting a golden glow over the dining room as Alex and Klarisse sat across from each other. A quiet yet awkward tension filled the space, a contrast to the usual strict business-like atmosphere they had grown accustomed to during their family’s endless negotiations and strategies. Bronson Robinson and Alan Fowls had summoned them both just moments earlier, issuing what sounded more like an indulgence than an order: a full day off. “You’ve earned it,” Bronson had said with an uncharacteristically jovial tone. “A little time to yourselves as a couple after securing the Marconi deal. Consider it a reward.” The underlying meaning was clear—another step to solidify the appearance of their union. But Alex could sense it wasn’t entirely about optics. Their fathers had noticed their increasingly synchronized teamwork, perhaps taking it as a sign of genuine marital chemistry. Now, sitting across from Klarisse at
As Klarisse sipped her coffee, its warmth spreading through her, her mind wandered to an entirely different line of thought—one that she hadn't allowed herself to entertain until now. She glanced at the tray Alex had brought her, a small gesture of care that was so unlike the circumstances of their union. *Why didn’t he even look at me like that? * Her thoughts were unwelcome, frustrating even, but she couldn’t stop them. She was thankful Alex hadn’t taken advantage of her vulnerability while she was drunk—that much was clear. But deep down, there was another question gnawing at her, one she hated herself for even considering. *Was he not attracted to me at all? * She frowned, picking at the corner of her toast. Alex was her husband, at least in the eyes of their families and the rest of the world. Yet, despite their arrangement, it felt like they were two strangers playing their respective roles, trying not to step on each other’s toes. It wasn’t as though she wanted him to fall
The soft rays of morning sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains of the master bedroom, casting a golden glow on the room. Klarisse sat up abruptly, her head pounding and her heart racing. The familiar room around her did little to quell her panic as she realized she was wearing only a silk robe. Her clothes from the previous evening were nowhere in sight. She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to piece together the scattered fragments of last night’s celebration. The wine, the toasts, the laughter—all vivid and yet blurry at the same time. Her stomach churned with a mix of embarrassment and worry as the glaring question loomed: *How did I end up here, like this? * Her mind raced, but her body remained frozen, her hands clutching the edge of the robe as if it were the only anchor she had in a sea of uncertainty. Then, the door creaked open. Alexander entered, holding a tray of food—toast, scrambled eggs, and a steaming cup of coffee. He was dressed casually, his shirt