Allie felt miserable for Klarisse, who had done everything to avoid her fate, but it kept chasing her, forcing her to choose between her family and herself.
“Allie, if I go through with this marriage, what about my business? I don’t want you to get tired managing it,” Klarisse stated. Allie chuckled.
"Klarisse, you don’t have to worry about me. Besides, you are paying me," she replied with a laugh. Klarisse playfully slapped her arm.
"Yeah, but you’re still my best friend. I don’t want to see you all haggardly; it’s not good for your beauty. I hate seeing you tired. You’re losing glamor points." she teased.
Allie rolled her eyes and shot her a mock death glare, but Klarisse hugged her from behind and kissed her cheek.
"Eww, gross!" Allie exclaimed.
"Duh, I’m just so sweet," Klarisse retorted.
Their banter was interrupted when a new customer entered the café. Both of their eyes turned to the glass door, now held open by a man dressed in all black.
"Wow, he’s cool," Allie commented. Klarisse thought the same but kept it to herself. The man, dashingly handsome, caught everyone's attention, especially the ladies.
"Wow, who’s he?"
"He’s so handsome." "I know, right? I want him." These were the murmurs from the women in the café. The man seemed to be searching for someone, prompting Klarisse to approach him."Good day! Is there something I could help you with?" she asked, noting how he caught her attention too. The man’s intense gaze met hers.
"Yeah, I’m looking for someone, a simple and pretty woman," he stated. Klarisse’s eyes widened as she scanned the café.
"I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you’re talking about. Why not just look for her elsewhere?" she suggested. The man was visibly annoyed.
"Are you the owner here?" he asked. Klarisse nodded proudly, but the man smirked, eyeing her from head to toe, irritating her.
"You have no qualities of an owner. Maybe you’re just a waitress here," he scoffed. Klarisse’s eyes widened.
"Excuse me?" she retorted.
"You’re not excused," he replied, rolling his eyes. He continued to search the café.
"Excuse me, you’re catching everyone’s attention," Klarisse said.
"I don’t care. I’m here to see my girlfriend," he said.
"Why don’t you call her instead of making a scene?" she asked. The man stopped and faced her with irritation.
"Will you just shut your mouth? I need to find my girlfriend or else," he said.
"Or else what?" she challenged. The man felt manipulated.
"Never mind, I’ll call her outside, miss waitress," he said, and hurriedly left, before she could react.
"What happened?" Allie asked.
"Ugh, that man!" Klarisse fumed.
"What do you mean?" Allie inquired.
"He said I’m just a waitress here after I told him I’m the owner. And why is he looking for his girlfriend here?" she vented. Allie chuckled.
"Oh, come on. Maybe he just had a quarrel with his girlfriend. Don’t take it personally." Allie said.
"I don’t care! I hate his guts. He’s handsome but has a terrible attitude," Klarisse said, still irritated. Allie shrugged and attended to other customers.
A moment later, a nervous-looking woman entered the café. Klarisse approached her.
"Good morning, may I help you?" Klarisse asked.
The woman looked around anxiously.
"Is something wrong?" Klarisse asked again.
The woman collected herself. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’d like an American latte, please.”
Klarisse noticed the woman’s nervousness but didn’t press further. "Miss, you can wait at a table, and I’ll bring your order," Klarisse said.
The woman nodded and found a seat, continuing to glance around nervously.
Klarisse was still intrigued by the woman and so she hurriedly got her order prepared.
“Here’s your order,” Klarisse said, handing her the latte.
“Thank you. How much is it?” the woman asked, fumbling for money, and was relieved to find money in her purse.
After paying, the woman sighed in relief. Klarisse was relieved too, thinking she wouldn’t have to offer charity. Klarisse was glad the transaction was smooth.
After that, things went business as usual in her cafe. Klarisse was glad for the peace she felt everytime she's here in her own business. She was very in control here, very independent from her family, her concerns. Her own business, her own life, but somehow, she could not run away from her family and her responsibilities now that her twin sister was gone.
Klarisse recalled Klara's last words to her on her deathbed, that Klara loved her so much. Klarisse loved her twin sister as well, Klara, her twin who kept her connected to her family. But now... she was not too sure anymore.
"Oh, Klara, what should I do?" Klarisse asked to herself, sighing deeply. Then, Klarisse nodded to herself. She needed to get some air.
"Allie, I’m going out to get some stuff," Klarisse said. giving the anxious woman in the corner part of the cafe a final glnce. She was really puzzled by the woman's anxiousness, which contrasted with the handsome arrogant man's behavior earlier. Klarisse sighed to herself and a little irritated with herself for recalling the rude man in black earlier. She gave her cafe a last stare and was convinced that everything was good and in the skilled hands of her friend Allie."Okay, call me later," Allie replied, giving her manager friend a gentle nod and inspiring smile. She knew that Klarisse was still thinking about the arranged marriage thing. That's a heavy burden to take. But she was confident that her friend would make the right decision, whatever it needed to be.
Klarisse grabbed her purse and phone, got into her car, and drove off. Klarisse left the café, ignoring a message from her mother, Kareen.
Shortly after she left, her mother, Kareen, arrived.
"I’m sorry, Aunty, but she just left. You didn’t bump into her?" Allie said.
"Is that so?" Kareen sighed. “I’ll come back later. Tell her I stopped by. Thank you.”
Allie nodded and sent Klarisse a message, but Klarisse, wanting to avoid any interruptions, read it and then put her phone on silent mode.
Spring had fully arrived in Venice, and with it came a softness in the air that even the most hardened of old Mafia families could feel. The Robinson estate’s gardens were in full bloom, roses and jasmine threading through the hedges like nature’s embroidery. On any given day, the laughter of teenagers could now be heard echoing across the open courtyards.Lucas and Liana Robinson—twins born from a bloodline of legacy, leadership, and carefully kept secrets—were no longer the children their family once protected in silence. Now teenagers, their presence in the world of the Five Families was impossible to ignore. Yet amid the lingering shadows of history, their hearts were beginning to be stirred by something much simpler, yet just as powerful: the first spark of young love.Liana sat on a marble bench beneath the flowering archway that framed one end of the courtyard. Her sketchpad rested on her lap, open to a lightly penciled drawing of the garden before her. Across from her, Matteo,
The early spring light filtered through the great windows of the Robinson estate, bathing the drawing room in soft gold. It was a rare day of calm—a brief pause in the rhythm of power plays and legacy meetings that had long ruled the Robinson and Fowl households.But today, something else stirred under the surface. Something long delayed.Artemis Robinson stood near the tall windows, his gaze fixed on the drive beyond where cherry blossoms danced in the breeze. His arms were folded, his brow slightly furrowed—his usual composure softened by the weight of the decision he was about to confirm.Allie entered the room behind him, a cup of tea in hand, her other hand resting on her small bump. She was visibly pregnant, but it hadn’t slowed her down. If anything, the coming baby had strengthened her resolve.“He’s ready,” she said softly, her voice breaking through Artemis’s thoughts.He turned to her, his face unreadable for a moment, but then he nodded. “I know.”“You’re still worried,” A
The wind was gentle that morning as the car wound through the private forest road that led to the ancestral Fowl burial grounds. The towering trees, thick with the greens of early summer, whispered softly in the hush that followed four old souls making their way toward closure.It was the first time the Robinsons had agreed to come here—to Klara Fowl’s final resting place.Bronson and Angela Robinson stepped out of the car, the air around them filled with the kind of silence that demanded reverence. The land had long been in the Fowl family, hidden and guarded, far away from the public eye and the chaos of their intertwined legacies. Now, it was just them—the original architects of what had once been a powerful alliance built on marriage, promises, and quiet betrayals.Alan and Kareen Fowl followed closely behind. They weren’t dressed in mourning, but in solemn hues: dark greys and muted blues, fitting for a day that bore no celebration but sought peace.The gravestone sat atop a smal
The wind danced through the garden once more, as if time hadn’t moved forward at all. But it had. The olive trees were taller now, the hedges more filled out, and the café near the far side of the estate had long since expanded into a flourishing local favorite. The laughter of children that once echoed through these halls had matured into deeper, more grounded voices—still joyful, still curious, but shaped by the years.Inside the villa, Klarisse sat curled up on the same couch she and Alexander had picked out together all those years ago. Her cup of tea had gone lukewarm in her hands, but she didn’t mind. She was lost in thought, eyes following the movement outside—where two teens, tall and full of energy, walked along the path near the grove.Lucas and Liana.They were no longer the small, giggling toddlers who used to chase butterflies or sword-fight with wooden sticks. Now, they were confident teenagers—Lucas tall, athletic, with the intense, thoughtful eyes of his father. Liana
The air in the countryside estate was soft and warm, touched by the late afternoon sun. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees as if whispering old secrets among the leaves. The house nestled at the top of the gentle slope still bore the faint scent of vanilla and fresh lavender from the day’s baking—something Allie had insisted on doing herself despite having a full staff.She had always loved the calm of this place, far from the legacy-filled city of deals and hidden tensions. This house, built not far from Klarisse’s family villa, had been gifted by Artemis to Allie when she told him she wanted a home—*not a monument*—for their child to grow up in. It was here that their son, Matteo, was raised in peace.Matteo Fowl was turning thirteen soon. Though still technically a child, his questions lately had carried the weight of someone beginning to see the world not just as a playground, but as a web of complicated truths. And he was beginning to ask about *them*—the cousins.That mor
The sun was warm on the stone terrace, and the faint scent of lavender and rosemary drifted through the breeze. The villa—*their* villa—sat on the edge of a hill, wrapped in golden light and surrounded by low stone walls, winding paths, and rows of olive trees. The laughter of children rang out in the garden, light and carefree, accompanied by the sound of footsteps rushing over grass.Lucas and Liana raced past the windows, their matching dark hair bouncing in the wind as they chased butterflies with paper nets and the kind of gleeful determination only young hearts could muster.Alexander Robinson stood by the large arched window, a cup of black coffee in hand, watching the twins with a quiet smile. Behind him, Klarisse Fowl-Robinson stepped into the room, barefoot and wrapped in a soft linen robe, her hair still damp from the morning shower. She approached without a word and slipped her arm around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder.Home.It was the first time in year
The Council of Five convened in the grand chamber of the Robinson estate, its walls adorned with ancestral portraits and symbols of legacy. The air was thick with anticipation, as the members prepared to discuss a matter that could redefine the power dynamics within their intertwined families.At the head of the table sat Bronson Robinson, his demeanor as composed as ever. To his right was Alan Fowl, whose sharp eyes missed nothing. Opposite them were Angela Robinson and Kareen Fowl, both matriarchs with a deep understanding of the intricacies of their lineage. The fifth seat was occupied by Valentin Marconi, whose presence was both a reminder of past alliances and a testament to the enduring bonds between their families.Bronson began, "We are gathered here to discuss the implications of Artemis and Allie's forthcoming child. Given Artemis's position and the legacy he carries, this event cannot be viewed merely as a familial milestone."Alan nodded, "Indeed. Artemis, being the elder
The sun poured gently through the tall windows of the Robinson estate, casting warm gold hues on the white and blush-colored decorations that adorned the main hall. Delicate streamers, soft florals, and pastel balloons floated like clouds against the walls, and the scent of fresh peonies and vanilla drifted through the air. It was a peaceful day, filled with laughter and quiet joy—a stark contrast to the chaos that once defined their lives.The estate had been transformed into a soft, serene venue for a very special occasion: Allie’s baby shower.Guests bustled about with small gifts, trays of hors d'oeuvres, and glasses of sparkling juice. The entire Council of Five had sent their blessings, and the Fowl and Robinson families had gone all out. The garden outside was blooming, a symbolic touch Artemis had insisted on—flowers for new life, growth, and everything ahead.Inside, Allie sat in the drawing room, glowing in a pale blue dress that hugged her baby bump just right. Her hair was
The Robinson mansion’s private study had always been a place of power and quiet conversations—decisions that shaped alliances, safeguarded legacies, and at times, determined fates. Today, that room held such weight once again. The polished surface of the table between them reflected the two small velvet boxes—one black, one dark crimson—placed with deliberate care.Alexander sat quietly beside Klarisse, their hands resting just slightly apart. Both of them had seen and endured more than most in their lifetime, but this—this moment was something else. This was about their son. Their future.Across from them, Bronson Robinson and Alan Fowl wore unreadable expressions. Behind their eyes, legacies stirred—ones they had fought to preserve, often at great cost.“We agreed to meet privately,” Bronson began, his voice level but low, “because this is more than tradition. More than ceremony. This is about foresight.”Alan gave a solemn nod. “It’s time we talk about Lucas.”Klarisse instinctivel