The deal was sealed, and Master Alexandro couldn't contain his joy.
"Mr. Raph, your marketing presentation was outstanding. There's no doubt our latest jewelry collection will top the ranks.
And Clara," he turned with an admiring smile, "your budgeting skills are unparalleled. My very own son and personal assistant, this achievement wouldn't have been possible without you all."
They clinked their glasses in celebration, laughter filling the room. Later, as the night gradually came, they dispersed to prepare for their departure the next day.
Clara was walking to her suite when she heard her name.
"Clara," Ashley called.
"Hey, Ashley," she replied, her mood lifted by the successful evening.
"Clara, I must say, I had no idea you were this good," he said, a proud smile playing on his lips.
She chuckled lightly. "Of course I am," she quipped, raising her shoulders in mock pride.
"You know what? You deserve a hug."
Before she could react, Ashley enveloped her in a firm embrace.
"Oh, Ashley," she said, laughing. "You really do have heavy bones."
She lightly patted his shoulder in response.
Unbeknownst to her, Mitchell stood a few feet away, watching. He had been on his way to his suite but stopped in his tracks at the sight of Clara smiling warmly at Ashley. His chest tightened, a mix of emotions stirring inside him.
His eyes narrowed slightly, and his jaw tensed. Mitchell wasn't the type to confront situations like this directly, but the sting of jealousy was undeniable.
Turning away, he muttered under his breath, "Why does it bother me so much?"
As he walked, fragments of memories surfaced in his mind. He saw an image of himself shaking hands with Ashley, the two of them laughing and clicking as friends.
"How did it come to this?" Mitchell murmured, pressing a hand to his temple.
"I used to like him, but now... I don't even recognize our bond."
Straightening his suit, he forced the thoughts aside and continued to his room.
---
Inside his suite, Ashley was brimming with excitement.
"Brooke! She hugged me!" he exclaimed over the phone.
Brooke's voice came through calmly. "Ashley, I think Clara sees you as a friend, and she always will."
The statement hit Ashley like a blow. He tightened his grip on his phone. "You know what, Brooke? I didn't mean to call you. Goodbye."
He hung up abruptly, tossing the phone aside.
"She may see me as a friend now," he muttered to himself, "but I'll show her she needs more than that. She needs me."
His mind wandered to the evening. Clara's radiant smile, her laughter, it wasn't something he'd let go. He would ensure she saw him not just as a friend but as the man she needed.
---
Meanwhile, Clara freshened up and dialed Natasha. The line connected, and she wasted no time diving into the heavy topic on her mind.
"I think the evidence is true," Clara began, her voice low but firm.
Natasha's voice was sharp with disbelief. "Wait, are you saying the first parcel wasn't a hoax?"
"No," Clara replied, her tone heavy.
"I know it's true. The way Master Alexandro looked at me during my interview, he recognized my surname. Even here at the hotel, I've caught him glancing at me as if trying to gauge what I know."
Natasha was silent for a moment, then said, "Clara, this is... I don't know what to say. If it's true that he's connected to your parents' deaths..."
"It is," Clara interrupted. Her voice hardened. "I've kept quiet all these years, but this? I won't let it slide. Everyone has seen the calm, peaceful side of me, but now... they'll see something else entirely."
"Clara," Natasha said cautiously,
"don't let your emotions cloud your judgment. Think about this."
"Think?" Clara's voice was laced with steel.
"If this were you, would you just sit back and wait for karma? I'm not letting my parents' killer walk free. But Natasha, my grandmother mustn't know. She's endured enough."
Natasha sighed. "Alright, Clara, I get it. But promise me you'll take a moment to breathe. We'll talk when you get back."
"There's nothing to discuss," Clara said sharply, then softened.
"But if it'll make you feel better, fine."
"Good. Talk soon, Tigress," Natasha added, trying to lighten the mood.
Clara let out a small chuckle. "Bye."
As the call ended, Clara sat on the edge of her bed, memories washing over her. She recalled her father lifting her onto his shoulders, the warmth of her mother's hands as she braided her hair. The thought of their lives being stolen twisted a knife in her heart.
Her mind wavered as she thought of Mitchell, how he trusted her enough to confide in her about regaining his memory. But the sharp truth stood firm: his father was responsible for her parents' deaths. Could she carry out her plans for revenge without breaking him?
Tears pricked at her eyes, but she pushed them back. She wouldn't cry, not now, not when she had a plan to execute.
She clenched her fists. If the roles were reversed, would he spare me a thought?
Her jaw tightened as resolve hardened her features.
"Come rain, come sunshine," she whispered, her voice unshakable, "I will avenge my parents."
---
Mitchell sat alone in his room, his thoughts drifting. He had started to regain bits and pieces of his memory, but none of it explained why Ashley felt like such a stranger to him now.
He thought back to Clara. Her smile when she hugged Ashley, it lingered in his mind like a thorn. There was something more beneath the surface, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
"I need to know the truth," he said to himself.
Unknown to him, the truth he sought might be more devastating than he could imagine.