Louisa walked back into The Gilded Spoon, her cheeks still flushed from Jayden's unexpected kiss, the weight of the Dior bags a tangible reminder of her whirlwind afternoon.
Ellie and Scarlett were both leaning against the counter, arms crossed, their expressions a mixture of amusement and mild interrogation.
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Ellie said, her eyes widening as she took in the designer shopping bags.
"And what did you tell Mrs. Albright? That you had a sudden craving for extremely expensive French pastries?"
Scarlett chuckled. "More like a sudden craving for extremely expensive French clothes, judging by those bags."
She raised a knowing eyebrow. "And was that Jayden's little sister? She was certainly… enthusiastic."
Louisa laughed, a genuine warmth spreading through her despite their teasing.
"Lily is… a lot. But she's sweet. Honestly? I have no idea what Jayden said. He just spoke to her quietly for a few minutes. Whatever it was, it worked like a charm. Mrs. Albright just sighed, looked at me like I was a walking disaster, and told me to clock back in."
Ellie and Scarlett exchanged knowing glances. "Charm, probably," Ellie muttered under her breath, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
Scarlett chuckled. "Definitely something involving the Walton name or a hefty promise of future patronage."
Ellie quipped, reaching out to touch one of the bags reverently. "Your life is getting seriously interesting, Louisa Wren."
As Louisa recounted the highlights of her afternoon – Lily's infectious energy, the surreal experience of shopping in Dior, and the stolen kiss – the mundane reality of the diner slowly reasserted itself.
Mrs. Albright, her face etched with her usual weary patience, simply pointed to a stack of uncleaned tables.
"Back to work, Louisa. Those aren't going to clean themselves."
Ellie and Scarlett exchanged sympathetic glances with Louisa as she grabbed a cleaning cloth.
The rest of Louisa's shift passed in a blur of coffee refills and burger orders, the earlier excitement of her unexpected day off slowly fading into the familiar rhythm of the diner.
However, the Dior bags tucked safely in the back room and the memory of Jayden's lingering kiss served as a vibrant undercurrent to her routine.
Her life, as Ellie had pointed out, was definitely getting more interesting, and Louisa couldn't help but wonder what the second term at Charterhouse would bring.
...
The atmosphere in the Walton's grand dining room, with its crystal chandeliers and heavy mahogany furniture, was thick with unspoken tension.
Jayden sat at the head of the long table, Lily to his right, their parents opposite them. The elaborate welcome-home dinner, meant to celebrate Lily's return, felt more like an interrogation.
"So," their mother began, her voice carefully neutral as she delicately dabbed her lips with a linen napkin, "where did you two disappear to as soon as Lily landed? You barely had time to say hello."
Lily, ever the chatterbox, jumped in, her British accent still charmingly prominent.
"Oh, we went to see someone! A very pretty someone," she added, throwing a deliberately knowing look at Jayden.
Jayden offered her a stiff, forced smile, the easygoing demeanor he'd shown Louisa earlier replaced by a guarded, almost corporate coolness.
Their mother's perfectly manicured lips curved into a practiced smile. "Oh? Stephanie Michaelson, I presume? It's good to see you keeping up with… familiar circles, Jayden."
Lily scrunched up her nose, a picture of teenage disdain. "Ugh, Stephanie isn't that pretty."
Their father, who had been silently observing, his gaze sharp and assessing, finally interjected, wiping his mouth with a crisp napkin.
"Is it the girl who has been making you so… defiant lately, Jayden? The one who has you questioning my decisions?" His eyes locked pointedly on his son.
Jayden maintained a steely gaze, his jaw tight as he fought to keep his simmering frustration in check. "No one is making me do anything, Dad."
"You did not answer my question," his father pressed, his voice hardening. "I will take it that she is merely a passing fancy. Someone you wish to… occupy your time with."
A harsh, humorless laugh escaped Jayden's lips. "Think whatever you want, Dad. Frankly, whatever my answer is, it doesn't seem to matter to you anyway."
The tension in the room became almost palpable. Lily, sensing the impending storm, released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"Uhm," she interjected, her voice a little too loud. "I haven't seen Ashtray since I got back. Where is he?"
She directed the question to no one in particular, a desperate attempt to derail the escalating conflict.
Just then, Jayden's control snapped. He dropped his silver cutlery onto his porcelain plate with a loud clatter, the sharp sound making his mother and sister flinch.
"Thank you for ruining dinner," he stated flatly, the polite facade completely gone.
He scraped his chair back with a harsh screech, grabbed his phone from the credenza by the entryway, and strode out of the dining room.
Lily's spoon clattered against her own plate as she glared at her father, her earlier excitement completely evaporated.
"You couldn't just let today's dinner go peacefully to celebrate my return, could you?" She pushed back her chair and stood up abruptly.
"Baby, where are you going?" her mother called after her, her voice laced with concern.
"I'm going with Jayden," Lily retorted, her voice tight with anger. "Dad just completely ruined the mood." And with that, she turned and followed her brother.
Jayden had already snatched his car keys from the credenza and was sliding into the driver's seat of his BMW when he saw Lily practically sprinting down the grand staircase.
She threw herself into the passenger seat, her usual bright smile replaced by a pouty, babyish expression. "Take me with you, please."
"You left dinner too?" Jayden asked, surprised. "Not because of me, I hope."
Lily shook her head vehemently. "No way! Dinner was getting way too dramatic. Suddenly lost my appetite."
Jayden chuckled, a genuine smile finally breaking through his earlier frustration.
He started the engine, and the powerful car purred to life as they left the sprawling estate in Hudson Yards behind, heading south towards the relative sanctuary of his private villa in Tribeca.
*****
In the cozy confines of their Lower East Side apartment, a subtle air of excitement mingled with the usual morning rush. School resumption day had finally arrived, and Louisa found herself humming a cheerful tune as she donned her Charterhouse uniform.
A nervous flutter danced in her stomach, yet an unfamiliar desire to look her best prompted her to linger in front of the small, fogged-up mirror, carefully applying a touch of lip gloss and attempting a slightly more elaborate hairstyle.
Her mother watched her from the stove, a fond smile playing on her lips as she packed Louisa's lunch.
"Let me help you with that, child," she chuckled, stepping over to gently smooth a stray strand of hair.
Louisa beamed, turning to her mother with a hopeful expression. "Do I look… okay?"
Her mother enveloped her in a warm hug. "You always look beautiful, mija." But then, her eyes twinkled with amusement.
"Though, you haven't fussed this much over your appearance in a long time. What's changed?"
Louisa shrugged, a vague excuse about simply wanting to look presentable for the start of the new term forming on her lips.
But her mother, ever perceptive, cut her off. "Tell this young man that I want to meet him."
Louisa froze mid-reach for her bag, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned to face her mother.
"What young man?" she stammered, a blush creeping up her neck.
Her mother rolled her eyes, a playful smirk on her face.
"Those designer shopping bags you tried so hard to hide the other day? Honey, those screamed 'wealthy admirer' from a mile away. Dior, wasn't it?"
Louisa's head fell, a groan escaping her lips. "You saw them. Gosh, Ma!"
Her mother chuckled, returning to packing Louisa's lunch.
"So, that answers my first question – he comes from money. Now, I need to see for myself if he's handsome and, more importantly, respectful."
Louisa buried her face in her hands. "Mum! How am I supposed to tell Jayden that you want to meet him… in our cramped apartment?"
The image of Jayden's sleek Tribeca penthouse flashed in her mind.
Her mother's voice softened, but her gaze was firm. "If he loves you, Louisa, he will come. Tell me in advance when he plans to visit so I can cook something nice and fresh for him."
Just then, Louisa's phone buzzed – a message from Scarlett. Louisa sighed, grabbing her bag.
"That's my cue to leave for the bus stop. You've made your point, Ma."
Her mother kissed her forehead, her eyes filled with a gentle warmth. "I'm happy you're making new friends, honey."
The moment the door clicked shut behind Louisa, a thoughtful expression settled on Mrs. Wren face. She moved to the window, watching her daughter hurry down the street towards the bus stop, a small figure carrying the weight of both her dreams and the unexpected complexities of her young life.
A sigh escaped her lips. She hoped this "young man" Louisa had found was worthy of her.
Meanwhile, across town in the opulent Blackwood estate, Cassia moved through the echoing halls with a sense of detached weariness.
The return to school felt like another unwelcome obligation. The memory of the horrific images on her phone still lingered, a toxic cloud hanging over her thoughts.
She hadn't spoken to anyone about them, the shame and confusion a heavy burden she carried alone.
As she prepared for school, her reflection in the antique mirror seemed like that of a stranger – pale, with dark circles under her eyes.
The carefully constructed composure she usually presented felt fragile, threatening to shatter at any moment.
The thought of facing Anya and the inevitable whispers about her exam debacle filled her with dread.
Downstairs, her mother was already in the breakfast room, a tense silence reigning between them. The unspoken accusations and the lingering sting of the slaps hung in the air.
Cassia knew her mother was likely still furious, but a strained civility had settled over their interactions, a thin veneer masking the raw emotions beneath.
As Cassia picked at her untouched breakfast, her phone buzzed again. Another message from the unknown number. This time, there was no text, only a single new photograph.
It was a close-up shot of her mother's hand, adorned with her distinctive diamond ring, intertwined with the hand of a man Cassia didn't recognize. The background was blurry, but it looked like a dimly lit restaurant.
A cold fury began to simmer within Cassia.
This anonymous tormentor was relentless, deliberately feeding her these glimpses into her mother's secret life. But why? And what did they ultimately want?
As she walked towards the waiting chauffeur-driven car, Cassia clutched her phone tightly in her hand.
The carefully crafted world she had grown up in was crumbling around her, and she was beginning to realize that the secrets and lies ran far deeper than she had ever imagined.
The second term at Charterhouse was not just a return to academics; for Cassia, it felt like stepping onto a battlefield where she didn't even know the enemy.
The fallout from her mother's actions, and the insidious messages, were about to cast a long shadow over her school year.