101 Dalmatian Street Clarissa Novels & Stories

'You're getting closer. Turning a corner, I walked into the living area and looked out at the balcony that overlooked the city. She stood leaning against the railing with a smile on her face. Her gorgeous hair was flowing against the breeze and cascading down over her bare shoulders. The white and floral maxi dress she wore hugging her figure perfectly. "You found me," Clarissa said, smirking. "I will always find you." Taking my strides quickly, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her in close, my lips crashing down up hers as we kissed feverishly until we were both gasping for air. "Never do that to me again, Clarissa."

I managed to smile, not wanting to come off as rude, even though her greeting had been somewhat sarcastic. “You must be Clarissa?” the older woman inquired, her voice exuding authority. I realized she was the matriarch of the Mexican mafia, ruling without a male counterpart. She was highly feared in the mafia world and had played a significant role in helping Dominic reclaim the Italian mafia. I smiled at her, maintaining a calm demeanor despite the unease that coursed through me. “Yes, I’m Clarissa,” I responded, my voice unwavering. I noticed a fleeting emotion in her eyes—something I couldn't quite identify. It appeared and vanished before I could fully comprehend it.

Clarissa wasn’t a piece in this game; she was the prize. My phone buzzed again with one final message. This one wasn’t text; it was a photo of Clarissa in a dim hallway, her face streaked with tears. Behind her, in the corner of the frame, I could swear I saw something that looked like a silhouette in a dark mask, and my heart stopped. Clarissa really was running from me, but now she was running straight toward the Cloak.

I forced myself to stand up to the excitement I felt. We left together, and when we arrived at his house, it was breathtaking to see the paradise he lived in. The door was opened by the maid, who offered to help me out and carry my bag. The next thing I was ushered into was a white sitting room that was paradise. I was still standing, afraid that I might get dirt in his house. Clarissa stepped into the sitting room; she was wearing white pajamas. Her hair was loose with curls on the tip, and her face was bare.

Clarisse's kindness was a tool I could use, a pathway to Tiffany's downfall. As we walked through the bustling streets, I observed Clarisse closely. She was genuinely warm and inviting, her laughter infectious. It was hard to believe that someone so kind could be involved with someone as malicious as Tiffany Davis. I needed to win her trust, become her confidante, so she would listen to my warnings about Tiffany. In her luxury villa, I saw glimpses of Clarisse's life—elegant furniture, tasteful art, and the subtle scent of expensive perfume lingering in the air. It was a world far removed from my own, yet I needed to navigate it to achieve my goal.

“I hope she tells you the good things.” Adrian laughed. “Most of it.” Clarissa purposely glanced at her watch. “Oh well, I have to go home soon, otherwise my mom will look for me. See you tomorrow, Diana. Bye, Adrian!” “Aren't you coming with us?” Adrian offered, making Clarissa shake her head. “No, thanks, Adrian, I have a motorbike, parked in the back.” After saying that, Clarissa walked away, leaving Diana standing alone face to face with Adrian.

He leaned in and whispered something into Dante’s ear that made our alpha mate blush. “Let’s get you home, then.” Dante helped Clarissa into the vehicle. “I’m sure I could put together the sandwich.” “Does that mean I get to guess on the dessert?” I wasn’t sure what it was, but I was a 1,000 percent game. “Oh, I’m gonna need both of you for that one.” Clarissa winked. “Take me home, mate.” And we did, for both dinner and dessert.

) Tatia thanked her and paid the bill ignoring Clarissa’s protests, making her sigh helplessly. “De rien. À bientôt.” (You’re welcome. See you soon.) Clarissa said as she walked her to the door and shook her head in amusement when the old woman stole one of her newly made candles from the counter right in front of her eyes before leaving the store. Tatia is such a mischievous old woman, Clarissa thought and resumed her mopping after checking the time. She should make haste. Otherwise, the customers keeps flowing in. The bell rang at the front door after five minutes and she groaned softly, still struggling to scrape the wax stains from the wooden floor.

​ A chill washes over me, “please don’t-“ ​ Sharp nails wrap in my blonde hair and yank me forward till my neck snaps. I face startling, icy blue eyes and a scrunched nose. ​ “Do you speak?” The girl breathes in my face. ​ Afraid, I nod. ​ Her lips crook into a snakey smile, “Good. I’m Clarissa, and I couldn’t give less of a fuck who you are.” ​ People in the crowd laugh. Sweat beads over my lip, and I dart my eyes around, hoping for someone to help me. ​ Of course, no one does. ​ Clarissa takes a long whiff and gags, "Cinnamon and Strawberries? Really?”