*Cover designed by @arrowgig*
Clarisse Ricci, a fiery and intelligent Italian American amateur astronomer, knows how fleeting life can be. She's come to observe it firsthand, so she makes sure to experience the joys and sorrows of life with the love...
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Reacting quickly, Camille rushed forward to cushion her mother's head. The mysterious man grabbed a pillow from one of their sofas and shut the door behind him. Once Isabelle was settled comfortably on the floor, Camille entered the kitchen to get a water bottle out of the fridge.
The man watched her, wary.
"What are you doing?"
Camille gave him a look before sighing.
"I don't have smelling salts, so I'll have to pour water over her face to revive her."
"Oh. Okay," he said.
Isabelle dealt with much stress from her job, so she had frequent fainting spells. Thankfully, her employees knew to get a washcloth, water, and some selling salts whenever this happened. But they weren't the only ones prepared for this. Her daughters also learned how to prepare for those scenarios when she was home with them.
A few moments later, Camille returned to the living room, unscrewing the lid to a water bottle before turning it over so the cool water fell over her mother's face. The man watched nervously.
It wasn't long before Isabelle regained consciousness and shot up from the floor like a rocket, wiping her face frantically with her sleeve before staring at him. He took a few steps back, hands up in surrender, but found himself pressed against the wall, Isabelle poking him in the chest.
"Harold, I do not know why you're here, but I suggest you leave. Otherwise, the next time your family will see you is at your funeral," she snarled.
One of her hands came dangerously close to his windpipe, and he eyed it. He knew she would squeeze it if he made a wrong move, but she wasn't afraid of him.
Camille's eyes widened in shock, and she took a few slow steps back to rest against the wall. Her breathing quickened as her hands came to her mouth. She wondered if Clarisse knew anything about this person but figured her sister was just as in the dark as she was.
In the meantime, Harold struggled not to wince and keep eye contact with Isabelle simultaneously. When she was furious, she was strong. Isabelle stood before him, staring into his eyes since they were the same height.
Camille gathered her thoughts while taking deep breaths and walking towards her mother and Harold. She grabbed Isabelle's arm and pulled her away from Harold. Isabelle wriggled, not liking that she'd been caught, and was determined to finish what she had started. But unfortunately, Camille held on.
"LET ME GO!" Isabelle yelled, almost hitting her daughter in the face.
Camille ducked and growled.
"I'll release you when I know you won't attack this man again."
Now that he wasn't in any more danger, Harold moved away from the wall with as much dignity as a disheveled man could muster. All the while, his dark eyes flickered over the figure of Lorenzo's fuming widow. The woman looked like she wanted nothing more than to kill him.
