101 Dalmatian Street Clarissa Novels & Stories

ERICA I was scrubbing down the living room floor, the smell of lemon cleaner filling the air as I worked, when I heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking against the tile. I looked up to see Clarissa walking in, her designer bag slung over her shoulder and a smug expression on her face. She stopped in the doorway, her gaze flicking over me with barely concealed distaste. “Where’s Raffael?” she asked, her tone sharp, as if my presence alone was an inconvenience.

she said calmly. Damien exhaled sharply, pacing the floor. “I have asked everyone. No one is saying anything. The guards won’t answer me, and the staff is acting like they have been warned. And now—this?” He gestured wildly around the room. “You cannot even leave the house?” Clarissa said nothing, and her silence only deepened his frustration. “Did you do something?” Damien asked, his voice dropping to a low, accusatory whisper. After a long pause, Clarissa smiled faintly. “Careful, Damien. That question carries weight.”

stammered Clarissa Clara Tokwin at the boundary between her life and her death, pointing at Wenny Kammal. “It was her who’d planned to ruin and destroy Sumico Kammal, Mr. Virando… She forcefully dragged and involved all of us in these plans of hers, Mr. Virando… Please… Please… Let go… Let go… Let go of your hand from my neck…” begged Clarissa Clara pitifully. She was more and more frightened inasmuch as her quietus had been drawing to a close and to a close. “How dare you to work together, to cooperate to ruin and destroy my Sumi Darling! How dare you! You think I’m just an ordinary person not being able to do anything to take care of my Sumi Darling, not being able to protect my Sumi Darli

“Trust me, okay? You and I are making a detour.” Reluctantly, I let him take Deimos from me and follow him through Darius’s pack house to the cars waiting out front. Clarissa stands on the lawn, ready to say her goodbyes. She is huge, sweating like it’s the middle of summer and not the first days of winter. She hugs me, and won’t let go. “Come back and visit, okay?” “I will. Take good care of yourself and the pup,” I say on autopilot. I don’t really care.

She quickly runs towards the room next to her, then asks the head. “How may I be of help to you, my lady?” she asked, while looking at the floor. The headmaster of the orphanage’s name is Baroness Christie Blair of the Blair Family. She’s married to the Baron of Blair, who’s close to the 3rd son of the late Emperor, Emperor Julius. “Did you really clean this room?!” she asked Clementine. “I did, lady Christie,” she replied. “Clean this room again, and if I saw another speck of dust in here, you will receive another punishment, understand?” the Baroness shouted as she threw the rag on Clementine’s face, then left the room.

Someone had just opened the front door and stepped outside in a shade of red lipstick that was way too red for a morning like this. Clarissa. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, her slender figure covered in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She raised her hand to wave at us, tilting her head as she descended the steps. “Seems your guest has already made herself comfortable,” I gritted out. “Don’t be cross,” Mutti scolded before she opened the door and stepped out of my car. I didn’t get out. But that didn’t stop Clarissa from making her way to me.

“I can’t help them.” “You didn’t see anything?” “Nope.” She sipped the water again and nonchalantly shrugged at her mother’s question, “the cops can ask all the questions they want but I was knocked out from behind and saw nothing.” Fiamme gave a snicker and Delfina leaned sideways. “You and Carma came back early!” “We came to New York last night to knock some sense into this one,” Fiamme pushed Furio out of the way. “Move, you’re hogging her.”

I was already plating the scrambled eggs when I heard their voices. “Ugh, look at her,” Clarissa’s voice came through the kitchen entrance. She was the eldest of Dyson’s sisters, and by far the cruelest. “Still pretending to be useful even when she looks like a whale.” Denise laughed, leaning against the marble island. “Pregnancy really ruined her, didn’t it? She used to at least be tolerable to look at. Now she’s just… pathetic.”

“Emilia Williams… Let's see just how far you escape me.” Downstairs, Kathleen watched Clair storm into her room, her smile widening more than ever. “This is only the beginning. Let's see how you handle it when I tie your hands behind your back.” Clair stood on the balcony of her room, puffing out smoke from the cigarette held between her fingers. The gates opened, and a figure walked in. Clair had to look twice to ensure her eyes were not playing tricks on her. “Dama!” She watched her maid walk in gracefully, like she was some pristine guest. Clair dragged the last puff and tossed the cigarette to the floor as she hurried downstairs.

a full-bodied woman named Melony asked. “They need nappies in there,” Clarissa said, rolling her eyes, ‘can’t believe Prince Deacon had s*x with that and enjoyed it,’ Clarissa thought to herself, looking at Melony dressed in a Victorian-era dress with corset and all. Clarissa decided to find out for herself what was going on but every time she opened a door to a room expecting a familiar face but finds a stranger or two, or three she got more worried, “where is everyone?” She asked, talking to herself.