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
Klarisse stared at her phone, Alexander’s name glowing on the screen. For a moment, she hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t expected him to respond so quickly—after a week of silence, his sudden call felt almost surreal. Taking a deep breath, she swiped to answer. “Alex,” she said evenly, though her voice betrayed a hint of relief. “Klarisse,” Alexander replied, his tone subdued but steady. “I need you to come and pick me up.” Klarisse frowned slightly, the frustration she’d tried to suppress bubbling to the surface. “A week of nothing, Alex. No calls, no messages. Your family is losing their minds, and you’re hiding away?” “I know,” he said softly, his voice almost apologetic. “I needed time. But I’m ready to come back now. Can you meet me?” “Where are you?” she asked, her frustration tempered by curiosity. “At the beach house,” he answered. “The one my family owns. It’s far from the city... isolated. No one knows I’m here.” Klarisse’s heart sank as she rea
Klarisse leaned against the car, arms crossed, staring at Alexander as he stood barefoot in the sand, the wind tousling his hair. The beach stretched endlessly in both directions, its tranquility at odds with her mounting anxiety. "You can't be serious," she said, her voice tinged with exasperation. "You want to stay here for another day? Do you realize how much chaos your disappearance has already caused? And now you want me to vanish along with you?" Alexander turned to her; his hands shoved into the pockets of his linen pants. "Just one day, Klarisse. One day to breathe, away from everything and everyone. We’ll go back tomorrow. I promise." Klarisse opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she caught the exhaustion in his eyes. His usual confidence seemed chipped away, replaced by a vulnerability she wasn’t used to seeing. "Alex..." she began, her tone softening. "Please," he interrupted; his voice low. "I just... I need this. I need a moment where I’m not 'Alexander Robinso
The moon cast a silvery glow over the beach house as Klarisse stretched her arms, stifling yet another yawn. She sat on the plush couch, her legs curled under her, while Alexander stood by the kitchen counter, pouring himself a glass of water. Alexander, seated across from her, leaned back with an amused smirk. "If you yawn any harder, I’m afraid you’ll swallow a fly." Klarisse shot him a tired glare. "I’m fine. Just a little... exhausted." "You’ve been yawning non-stop for the past half-hour," Alexander said, his voice laced with amusement. He leaned against the counter, swirling the glass in his hand. "Long day?" Klarisse nodded, rubbing her eyes. "I was at the café all morning, then spent hours driving to get here. And now this," she said, gesturing around. "Dealing with you." Alexander smirked, unbothered by her teasing tone. "Dealing with me? You make it sound like a chore." She gave him a tired smile. "Sometimes, it is." He chuckled, taking a sip of water before setting t
The early morning sun bathed the beach house in a warm, golden glow as Klarisse sat on the edge of the couch, her phone resting in her hand. Her thumb hovered over the "send" button of the message she had just typed: *Alex is with me now. He’s alright. I thought you’d want to know. * The recipient was Maxine. Klarisse wasn’t entirely sure why she felt compelled to send the message. Maybe it was guilt for knowing how deeply Maxine had cared for Alexander. Maybe it was a sense of responsibility, or perhaps something deeper, something she couldn’t quite admit to herself. Alex was in the bathroom, the sound of the shower running muffled through the door. He had no idea she was doing this, and Klarisse intended to keep it that way. Taking a deep breath, she hit "send" before she could second-guess herself. The message delivered instantly, and Klarisse’s chest tightened. She stared at the screen for a moment, half-expecting a reply, but none came. Sliding the phone onto the coffee tab
The grand Robinson estate loomed ahead as the car rolled to a stop in the circular driveway. Klarisse barely had time to process the nerves bubbling in her chest before the front door swung open, revealing Bronson and Angela Robinson standing side by side. Their faces, set with stern disapproval, matched the tension in the air. Alan and Kareen Fowls were just behind them, their expressions no less forbidding. Alexander groaned under his breath. “Here we go,” he muttered. Klarisse shot him a warning glance, silently urging him to hold his tongue. The moment they stepped into the opulent foyer, the scolding began. “Do you two have any idea what you’ve done?” Bronson’s voice boomed, echoing against the high ceilings. “Disappearing for days without a word!” Angela chimed in, her tone sharp with worry. “Do you understand the risks you’ve taken?” Kareen stepped forward, her voice softer but no less chastising. “What if someone had found out where you were? What if you’d been attacked?”
The grand hall of the old Venetian villa bore the weight of generations. Marble pillars cast long shadows across the ornate floor as whispers rose and fell beneath the chandelier’s crystal glow. Seated around the long obsidian table were the most powerful leaders of the criminal underworld—an uneasy gathering of legacy, power, and lingering tension.The air was thick with quiet anticipation. The Robinsons. The Fowls. The Czerkovs. The Valens. The Santori Syndicate. These were the names that commanded fear and respect in both the legal and illegal realms of global enterprise. But now, with Luca Marconi gone and the balance of power shaken, this gathering held more at stake than ever.The seat at the head of the table remained empty.Bronson Robinson sat stone-faced near the center, with Alan Fowl seated beside him. Both patriarchs bore the weariness of recent weeks—nearly losing their children, their grandchildren, and decades of carefully held alliances. Klarisse was still recovering,
The Robinson mansion was unusually quiet, a calmness hanging in the air that seemed almost too still for a family of their size. Artemis leaned against the doorway to the study, his fingers lightly tapping on the wood as he watched Allie sitting at the kitchen table, a notebook in front of her. She had been quiet ever since they’d arrived back from the ordeal with Luca, and he knew something was off.He couldn’t help but notice the faint tremor in her hands when she picked up her coffee cup. Allie, ever the picture of strength, had been distant lately. She was recovering, but she hadn’t fully let herself process everything that had happened. Shooting Luca had been a shock, a decision that still weighed heavily on her, though she refused to show it. Allie’s need to appear strong was something he’d come to respect over the years, but it also made it harder for him to reach her.He moved toward her, pulling out the chair opposite her. She glanced up from her notes, offering him a half-sm
Alone in the room, Klarisse flashbacked on her time in the hospital.She sat in one of the reclining seats, wrapped in a thick blanket Angela had draped over her, though she barely noticed the warmth. Her gaze was locked on the small window to her right, the light from the afternoon sun flashed like memories she wished she could forget.Everything had happened so fast—Luca’s taunting voice, the cold press of his gun against her temple, Alex’s desperate plea to take her place, and then… the shot.She didn’t remember the pain. Only the way Alex had screamed her name, the way Allie’s voice broke as she pulled the trigger on Luca, and the way Artemis held everything together like their lives depended on it.Because it did.Now, Klarisse was safe. At least, that’s what everyone kept saying. But inside, she didn’t feel safe. She felt… lost.The medical team on board had done their best to patch her up. The wound wasn’t just in her body—it was in her soul.Maxine.Even the name sent a ripple
There was hope. But the story wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.The mansion was unusually quiet when they returned. Klarisse was recovering under tight medical supervision, the bullet wound clean but dangerous. Alexander hadn't left her side since they brought her back—his silence a shield, his guilt a constant companion.Artemis stood in the hallway outside the guest wing, arms crossed and jaw set. He had been debriefing their men nonstop, keeping everything in order, making sure no threats remained now that Luca Marconi was dead. But there was one matter left unresolved.Maxine.She stood in the library, fingers brushing over the edge of an antique table, her eyes distant. The fire crackled in the hearth but didn’t seem to warm her. She hadn’t spoken much since their return. The bruise on her cheek had faded, but the turmoil in her eyes remained.Allie was the first to break the silence as she stepped into the room. “You okay?”Maxine didn’t look up. “Am I supposed to be?”Allie
**Time stood still.** The sound of the gunshot echoed through the vast, dimly lit room. **A shocking silence…** **Allie’s hands trembled.** The recoil of the gun vibrated through her arm, but she barely felt it. **Her mind had gone blank.** Her vision tunneled, focusing only on one thing—**Luca Marconi.** **Luca’s face…** The smug, arrogant grin that had been plastered across his face moments before was gone. **Replaced by sheer shock.** **“You…”** Luca’s voice came out in a raspy, disbelieving whisper as he staggered back. His hand instinctively reached for the bullet wound in his chest, blood seeping through his expensive suit. **“Allie…”** **But Allie didn’t hear him.** Her breathing was ragged, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears that everything else was drowned out. **“You devil!”** Her voice trembled, but her grip on the gun remained steady. **“You ruined everything!”** **Luca collapsed.** His body crumpled to the floor, the sound echoing in the vast emp
**The tension in the room was suffocating.** Luca Marconi’s sinister smile never faltered as he pressed the cold barrel of the gun against Klarisse’s temple. Her wide, tear-streaked eyes stared into Artemis’, silently pleading for him to do something. But Artemis couldn’t move. Neither could Allie. **Every second counted.** The air was thick with danger, the weight of Klarisse’s life hanging by a thread. **“One wrong move,”** Luca taunted, his grip on the gun tightening, **“and she dies.”** **Then it happened.** A distant noise echoed through the villa. **Footsteps.** Rapid. Urgent. They weren’t alone anymore. **“What the hell—”** Luca’s smirk faded for a moment. The sound grew louder. **A storm was coming.** **“KLARISSE!”** The voice was unmistakable. **Alex.** **The world stopped.** **“Alex?”** Klarisse’s hoarse whisper echoed through the silent room as her tear-filled eyes darted toward the source of the voice. **“No…”** Artemis muttered under his breath, his h
**Venice, Midnight.** The cool breeze of the Venetian night brushed against Artemis Robinson’s face as he crouched behind a dilapidated wall. Beside him, Allie’s eyes were sharp, scanning the surroundings with precision. They were close. **Very close.** After days of relentless searching and following dead ends, this time… **They were certain.** **“This is it.”**** Artemis whispered, his voice barely audible. The coordinates matched. The information extracted from Enrico D’Angelo before his transfer to a safer facility had finally paid off. **“Luca’s holding Klarisse here.”** Allie’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed the building. It was an old villa on the outskirts of Venice. **Decrepit. Abandoned.** But appearances could be deceiving. **“It’s too quiet.”** Allie murmured, her instincts tingling. **“I don’t like it.”** **“Luca’s getting cocky.”**** Artemis responded, his tone grim. **“He’s confident.”** Artemis watched as the minimal security patrolled lazily. The
**“Alex!”** Klarisse’s scream echoed through the cold, dimly lit room, her voice trembling with desperation. Her heart was pounding so violently that it felt as if it would burst from her chest. Her vision blurred, her body weak from exhaustion and despair. **“Alex…”** Her knees gave out. **She collapsed.** **“Boss, what are we going to do with her?”** One of Luca’s henchmen stood over Klarisse’s motionless body. His voice held no compassion. Just cold indifference. Luca Marconi stood nearby, watching with amusement as Klarisse’s body lay slumped on the floor. **“Leave her.”** Luca’s lips twisted into a cruel smirk, his eyes gleaming with malice. **“She’s not going anywhere.”** **“Let her stew in her misery.”** **“Alex…”** Luca chuckled softly, swirling a glass of wine in his hand, savoring the unfolding tragedy like a fine vintage. **“You have no idea, Alexander.”** His voice was laced with venom. **“You chose to save your ex… over your wife.”** **“What a wonderf
**Venice.** A city of dreams… but tonight, it was a city of **nightmares.** **Klarisse Fowl-Robinson** sat bound and helpless in a cold, dimly lit room. Her wrists were tied tightly behind the wooden chair, and her ankles were bound to its legs. The air was damp, filled with the scent of mildew and fear. **But it wasn’t the coldness of the room that chilled Klarisse’s soul.** It was the **man sitting across from her.** **“Ahhh…”** Luca swirled the deep red wine in his glass, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. He sat leisurely, like a man savoring the fruits of a hard-fought victory. **“A fine vintage, don’t you think, Klarisse?”** His tone was mockingly polite, but his eyes… **Cold. Calculating. Cruel.** **Klarisse refused to answer.** Her jaw clenched as she stared at the floor, her eyes burning with tears she refused to shed. **But her silence only fueled Luca’s amusement.** **“Still giving me the silent treatment, huh?”** Luca chuckled softly, taking another