Clarisse Agbegnenou Novels & Stories

A closer look showed that she was filled with greed “They say we should forgive and forget. But you aren’t on that list, at least not when it comes to me” Aramide assured as she scrunched up her nose in disgust and began to walk away, “oh and yes,” she said as she paused and her driver opened the door of her Car simultaneously, “My name is Clarissa, The Aramide you all insulted and humiliated, died a long time ago” she finished.

Alice asked and hugged the already-seated girl. “Why are you here? Don’t you have a shift ma?” Clary started to say as she moved the groceries from the paper bag to their respective places. Alice Whitlock, mother to Clarissa and Cassandra was a nurse, she had chestnut hair which fell off her shoulders and a small built. She sat down on the couch and took a big gulp out of the bottle of water Clary offered her.

She smiled and continued, "My apologies for not introducing myself. I'm Claire Raphaela de Zielony. Nice to finally meet you, Minerva Chrysalis de Ivrea." What... the heck?

"I think you've come here for nothing today. That Mr. Henry Hoffman's daughter you saved? She's not actually a Hoffman by blood." "What... how can that be, that Layla..." "You think you can waltz in here with a sob story about a switched-at-birth kid who isn't even a true Hoffman and expect us to owe you one?" Clarisse's voice was icy, her gaze piercing. "Let me guess, this isn't your first time at this, is it? Everyone knows you can run up any debt, but a debt of gratitude? That's a life sentence!"

The little one kicks softly like a tiny reminder that I am not alone in this and truly, I am not alone. I have Liam beside me, his warm, rubbing touch sending tiny sparks racing through my body. Gosh, I love him so much, and after everything that has happened to us, I love him even more. Right then, the door at the far end of the hall suddenly opens and when I lift up my head, I see three people walking in, their chains rattling around their wrists and ankles. Clarissa. Louise. And Yvonne. Clarissa is first on the line, walking with her face held high as if she still owns the world. Her dress is torn and wrinkled, but her eyes are clear and filled with that same cold hate she always carries

"Nо Adаm, рlеаѕе dоn't іnvоlvе thе роlісе. Dо what уоu have tо dо. Mу ѕіѕtеr hаѕ been аllоwеd tо run wіld аll hеr life and it hаѕ tо ѕtор, now." Smіlіng аnd fоldіng mу arms, I looked аt Clаrеttе fоr the fіrѕt time wіth соntеmрt, nevertheless ѕtudуіng hеr. She was sitting оn hеr floor, hеr back аgаіnѕt thе lоwеr сuрbоаrdѕ, соwеrіng. Fіvе years younger then Rоѕе and аbоut thе same hеіght but a gооd thirty pounds hеаvіеr. Clarette was a woman with a tanning booth tan аnd lауеrеd mіd- bасk lеngth jеt-blасk hаіr. She wаѕ wearing fаr tоо muсh mаkеuр mаkіng her look оldеr then hеr асtuаl age. Judging from hеr clothing, Clаrеttе wаѕ trуіng tо dress and асt lіkе a teenager аnd nоt pulling іt оff. Cl

Blonde, sculpted, and polished like a glass dagger, she sat at the back of the luxury café, sipping tea like it was blood. Zara slid into the chair opposite her, entirely in black. No makeup. Just heat. “I’m not in the mood for games,” she said. Clarisse smiled. “Oh, sweetheart. This isn’t a game.” Zara leaned forward. “Then say what you came to say.” Clarisse studied her like one examines a puzzle. “You broke Alec’s rhythm. I didn’t think anyone could.” Zara arched a brow. “Did I ask for a review?” Clarisse’s smile sharpened. “I’m not here to compete. I’m here to warn you.”

I hadn’t realized she would be able to see the laptop screen. I sat up fast. My eyes landed on the laptop screen and I found it. The bracelet. The exact one I had given Claire the day she got that job at Café One. Why did Isabella have it? I slammed the laptop shut and turned to Serena. She was already asleep. I stood up quietly, pulled on my clothes, and walked out of the room without wasting time. Something was very wrong.

CHAPTER FIFTY CLARA'S POV We finished the tasks on a good slate today, the little brat seemed to be happy that she obeyed everything I instructed. The instant we finished I carried her to the room to wash up. “Get my daughter ready?” Adrian instructed through the call line. I dressed the young girl into a pink barlie gown matched with a black shoes. Later in the day he came back with his hands filled with chocolate. “Clara I want to see you.” He muted, instantly fear gripped through my thighs. Was I in a very terrible situation? Or does he want to screw between my painful holes.

Third POV “Forgive me for my interpretation cousin, but what does Clarissa represent here in the mafia, her presence is a treat and from My research she is Russian, and her presence here does not sit well with the Russians” Vincent said and as everyone present gasped looked at him like he was insane.