Cafae Latte Characters Novels & Stories

“We have Stevens,” Leon said. Leon is my best friend, my business partner, and my Beta. “I will call you back once I have additional information, for now, don’t sign any contract,” he added. My thought was interrupted by a sweet smell that hit my nose as Athena, one of the baristas in my cafe served my coffee. I am not sure if the sweet smell that lingers on my nose came from the coffee or Athena. My eyes followed her movements as she turned to her heels and walked towards the back and I have myself guessed that she is changing, getting ready to leave.

He also wanted to go out there with the person he loves and create beautiful memories together. What was his fault? Where did he go wrong? He has always just wanted to be with his Lettie. He met her first, liked her first then why..... Then why did that bastard was the one who took her in the end? Xander Knight! Lucas restrained his rage the moment he heard the door bell ring as someone entered the cafe. The Fismond Cafe. It was truly worthy. Set in a small street at the extreme left most corner, it had a unique charm to it. As the soft bell that rings every time someone enters, it also spreads out a beautiful fragrance along with....as if every person here is worthy of such an exquisite sme

But every few seconds, his gaze flicked toward the creative department. And when Katherine smiled into her mystery latte? His lip did something strange. It twitched. Upward. For exactly half a second. Then he cleared his throat, scolded himself internally, and went back to being made of marble. --- Katherine was not an idiot. She noticed the second latte the next day. And the third, which was hazelnut. And the fourth, which was oat milk chai and tasted like autumn made love to ambition. No one confessed.

Then he closed the book carefully, sliding something between the pages, and stood. I turned my attention deliberately to the counter. “Tre caffè, per favore,” I told the barista. “Spanish latte, hazelnut latte, americano. And five croissants, please—due alle mandorle, tre al cioccolato.” My voice was steady, casual enough to sound practiced. Footsteps behind me. Steady. Unhurried. “Elisha.” My throat tightened, but I kept my gaze on the neat row of glazed pastries, their shells shining under the glass. “You’ve confused me with someone else.”

But every time he does this—looks right past me, acts like I don’t exist—it chips away at the last bit of strength I have left. Sometimes I wish we had never met. Maybe life would’ve been easier. Maybe I wouldn't feel this pathetic sense of longing I can’t seem to kill. I turned off the water, grabbed a dry tissue, and patted my face dry. I looked better. But only on the outside. Inside, my thoughts ran wild. Wait... the latte. It wasn’t for him. Travian doesn’t drink milk—not ever. And it wasn’t for Tyla either. She always goes for cappuccino, never latte.

He orders a Carmel Latte with Strawberry Cold Foam. I look around. She is coming. Carmel Latte with Strawberry Cold Foam. I’ve ordered maybe a thousand in my life. Everyone was for Britt. She is behind this. She set all this up. “Tell Caleb and Tommy to hang close. Britt’s drink will be ready in a moment. I’m sure she isn’t far behind,” I look down at my hands. “The same hands that held her in love will rip her apart in death. I’m not sorry, I’m ready.”

“Never drink the machine coffee. It tastes like regret.” Elena snorted beside us, sketchbook hugged tight to her chest. “She says that, but she still drinks it every day.” “It builds character,” Chiara argued, waving her card at the barista. “Three espressos. And one latte for our newest princess.” “I’m not a princess,” I said. “Please. You’re a Falconeri now. That’s royalty around here.” I grimaced. “I didn’t choose that.” “Doesn’t matter,” Chiara said. “Names are everything in this place. You’ll see.”

While Rafaella enjoyed dinner at the hotel with her twin kids and Libby, their nanny, whom she had met while living with Luigi, Alexus' half-brother. She owed a lot to the man who, in consideration for agreeing to be his live-in partner in front of others, so the former boyfriend who wasted his money on many women would stop milking him, enabled her to graduate from college. She could still remember the first time she met Luigi Latimer. She had been that tense. She had entered the packed elevator waiting for the area while strolling along when a man approached her and introduced himself as Oscar.

Satisfied, she tucked her hair behind her ears and adjusted her blazer. “Alright, showtime,” she whispered, heading to the entrance. The café was filled with the usual morning crowd students tapping away on laptops, businesspeople grabbing their cups to go, and familiar faces behind the counter. “Hey, Laura! The usual?” Josh, the barista, greeted her with a friendly wave. “Yes, please! Two caramel lattes—one with soy milk for Mia and one with whole milk for me. Oh, and maybe add an extra shot of espresso for mine?” Laura added, feeling the excitement meld with her need for caffeine.

Godiva PoV. “What is your reason, Trisha?” I looked deep into her eyes. I sympathized she had remained with me until this moment. Her loyalty was unwavering despite the sadness on Trisha’s face I couldn’t understand the reason behind. I sipped a warm latte at a cafe that I had never visited before. The dim light seemed to accompany us on our escape. There was only one waiter who was mopping the floor this morning. Trisha only drank mineral water, and I ordered lasagna to replenish her energy. I thought it would keep her energized after our run out of Burze town. We got extra fries from the cafe, which I only ate because Trisha refused the food.