"You will not come back for dinner tomorrow, right?" Sante asked. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crosses

"Absolutely not" Clara responded lightly.

"You should. If not today, any other day"

"Great to be fucking invited back to the family after all these years but I am not going back here," she said angrily. She was now fully ready to leave this nightmare house. She put her beige coat on and stopped. "Wait. Do you have Lorenzo in your contact numbers?"

"Yes, why?"

"Let me call him"

He handed her a cellphone. "Here"

"Thank you," Clara muttered.

Lorenzo picked up after the first signal but Clara did not let him speak "You have my phone" Clara said in an unfriendly voice. She heard a light chuckle on the other side of the line.

"Clara, I am glad you're reaching out so soon. Since I have your phone, we have no choice but to meet today. I will be waiting for you at my restaurant at 6. I will send the address on your brother's phone. Wear something pretty"

He hung up. That fucking asshole. Clara cursed under her breath.

"Is everything alright?" Sante asked concerned.

"Everything is fine" Clara responded not wanting to elaborate.

"Would you like a lift home?"

"No, I will take a bus" Clara said, ready to leave and she started walking towards the entrance.

"Clara-" Sante started but he didn't finish the sentence.

She stopped to look at him and asked "What?"

"I'm sorry" that's all he said, she could feel the guilt in his voice.

She was sorry too. She knew it wasn't Sante's fault, none of this. Just like her, he was the victim of their parents' disagreements.

Clara's home was almost 40 minutes away from her "family house" and it took her over an hour to get to her apartment. As she was driving and her cellphone wasn't there to provide a distraction Clara was thinking about her unreasonable anger towards Sante and she realized that it's not anger but the pain she is feeling. She feels pain because her brother felt like a stranger to her. The person that she once looked up to and wanted to be like was no longer the boy she remembered, he was an adult man, she didn't know anything about. And that hurt.

The first thing Clara did when she arrived home, she watered her flowers. Her aloe started blooming which appears to be pretty rare with home plants of this kind. It lifted her mood a little.

Then she decided she's still tired and she didn't get much sleep today, so she lied down and close her eyes for a moment. Due to exhaustion, she managed to get some rest.

She woke up around 5 p.m. which was perfect for her plan. Her plan was simple – make sure Lorenzo knows she's not interested. She didn't do makeup and she decided to wear what she wears when she goes on emergency grocery shopping on Sunday morning. Black oversized hoodie and grey sweatpants. Her blonde hair was tied in a messy bun. She was ready to go.

Entering a luxury restaurant with a Michelin star in something that could pass for a pajama or low-effort gym outfit was definitely an interesting experience. She received weird glances from the customers and the staff, some of them were downright staring at her scandalized. Some probably thought she's a mad lady who got lost.

Clara wouldn't let this negative attention overwhelm her. She wanted to let Lorenzo know she's giving him a big fat "fuck off" that was her ultimate goal.

"Ma'am I am afraid we require a formal outfit," the waitress said, she actually looked scared. Clara had to stop herself from snorting. Snobs were so annoying, why does it matter what she's wearing?

"It's alright Margaret, let the lady in" The sound of an amused, deep voice caught Clara off guard. Lorenzo was immaculately attired in three-piece black formalwear. Okay, he looked good. Clara had to admit that he's handsome but that was irrelevant. She needed to get rid of him. She had a job to do.

"I must be not catching up with the new fashion trends" Lorenzo admitted scrutinizing her outfit.

"Apparently" Clara played along.

"Shall we?" He invited her in a chivalrous gesture to come with him. Other than a common space restaurant offered guests more privacy in separate spaces with one table per room. The moment Clara entered she had to admire the interior again. The deep red color and dark wood appeared to be the major themes here. On top of the round table was a burgundy tablecloth and in the middle, there was a white candle giving the room a pleasant smell and more intimate atmosphere.

Lorenzo continued acting like a gentleman and pulled out one of the two rustic chairs situated on each side of the table. Suddenly she felt really embarrassed. Her choice of clothes was stealing her confidence indeed. She should've worn something else.

Her eyes cast down, her cheeks reddened as she took a seat. Clara was angry at herself for being such a loser at the moment and she tried to pull herself together but the moment she lifted her gaze to see the man now in front of her she was in shambles. Who sculpted this fucking face, Michel Angelo? No. Stop Clara. Don't think about it. Get it together.

As he sat down in front of her, she took a deep breath and said "Let's break up. Tell my father you're not interested"

Instead of addressing what she said he completely changed the topic "Let's not. I'm not interested in breaking up this deal. What I'm interested in is making you smile"

"Search for more achievable goals" she responded dryly.

"Oh, but only a challenge excites me"

"Is this a game to you?"

"In all fairness, everything is a game to me"

"Giving me back my cellphone, I am leaving" she informed, she was done wasting time.

"What if I don't feel like giving it back to you just yet?"

Son of the bitch.