17. A Sour Encounter
Author: Kayysemiu023
last update2024-09-05 00:21:01

"If that is a joke, it's a very expensive one." Olivia said, arching her brows at Van. "If you're going to tell a lie, then at least try to find one that's easy to believe. Do you even have any idea who Eric Mochi is?"

"She's right Van." Tony said. "Allow me to explain, we all know about some people that are billionaires, wealthy people who are respected by the society, but the Mochis are different. Eric Mochi is a fifth generation billionaire, it's like their family has been rich since the dawn of time.

From what I heard, they started with a small factory and that business has been growing since the 1900s up till today. It had been passed down the generation for years and now Eric Mochi is the one in charge. Apparently he's one of the very few business owners to have friendly relationship with the president, and other ministers.

Getting an appointment at his company is almost impossible, much less getting him to see you personally."

"Oh?" Van could tell quite easily that Eric was a
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  • 325. Shadows

    The rain had stopped, but the clouds remained— hovering low and thick over the city, muting the sunlight and softening the edges of the day.Ivy stood at the edge of the study, her arms crossed lightly over her chest. Van’s briefcase was gone from the hallway console now, and he hadn’t called home all morning.She knew the rhythm of his silences.When Van was tired, he paced. When he was irritated, he went quiet— but when he was anxious, he disappeared behind tasks. He would bury himself in purpose, mask it as duty.And she could feel it now: the shift. Something heavy pulling him beneath the surface.She didn’t want to be suspicious— but trust didn’t mean pretending not to notice.It meant caring enough to look closer.The study was just as Van had left it— papers stacked neatly, shelves alphabetized, and a slight coffee ring on the desk from yesterday’s mug.Ivy walked slowly to the far wall where the oldest family books were kept. She brushed her hand along the spines, leather boun

  • 324. What Now?

    The sun returned slowly the next morning— rising behind misty clouds, then streaming through the tall windows in gentle rays that spilled across the hardwood floor like honey.In the kitchen, Ivy hummed softly as she poured batter into a hot pan. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled the air. Leona was propped in a sling across her chest, awake but content, one tiny hand curled around the fabric as though she were holding on to her own little world.“I smell pancakes!” Billy shouted, barreling into the room with his usual whirlwind energy. His hair stuck out in five directions, pajama pants on backwards.“Morning, Electro Pancake,” Ivy said.“That’s my old name,” he said proudly. “Now I’m Captain Syrupstorm.”Chloe trudged in behind him, dragging a stuffed elephant by one leg. “I haven’t named myself yet. I’m still thinking.”Ivy flipped a pancake with one hand while steadying Leona with the other. “You’ve got time. You’re only eight.”“Eight and a half,” Chloe corrected.Van appea

  • 321. Welcome Back

    The front gate chimed at exactly 9:37 AM.Van, already halfway through his second cup of coffee, looked up from the kitchen island where he was sorting mail. “They’re back.”Ivy— still in her robe, hair twisted in a loose bun— smiled from across the counter. “Brace yourself.”“Should I stretch?”“Too late.”The front door flung open a moment later, and in stormed Ethan, superhero cape trailing behind him, arms full of drawings and candy wrappers.“I HAVE A NEW NAME,” he declared in a triumphant voice. “CALL ME —ELECTRO -PANCAKE!”Van blinked. “Why?”“I don’t remember!”Behind him, Ella followed with a shoebox under one arm and a paper crown on her head. “Don’t step on my treasure chest. It’s VERY delicate.”Isadora, who had volunteered to go with Macy for the pickup, brought up the rear carrying a lopsided stuffed penguin and two bags of snacks.“Remind me,” she muttered to Van, “next time, we only keep one of them.”“Deal,” Van said. “Which one?”They both looked at the kids, who wer

  • 320. Date Night

    It was well past nine when the house finally fell quiet.The twins were still at Macy’s for their overnight visit, Isadora had retreated early with a book and a soft “no interruptions” warning, and baby Leona— miracle of miracles— had fallen asleep after just ten minutes of Ivy’s singing and a slow sway around the room.Van stood by the crib, watching her tiny chest rise and fall, hands on his hips, head tilted slightly in disbelief.“She’s out,” he whispered.Ivy, wrapping herself in a soft shawl, nodded. “She’s never out this fast.”“She must be saving up energy to wake us up at three AM.”“Don’t jinx it.”He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I didn’t say anything.”Still barefoot, Ivy padded toward the door and flicked the dimmer switch. The nursery melted into soft shadows.“Wine?” she asked over her shoulder.Van raised an eyebrow. “Are we doing this?”“I think we are.”He didn’t need a second invitation.Downstairs, the house looked different in the low, golden light of the sconce

  • 320. Date Night

    It was well past nine when the house finally fell quiet.The twins were still at Macy’s for their overnight visit, Isadora had retreated early with a book and a soft “no interruptions” warning, and baby Leona— miracle of miracles— had fallen asleep after just ten minutes of Ivy’s singing and a slow sway around the room.Van stood by the crib, watching her tiny chest rise and fall, hands on his hips, head tilted slightly in disbelief.“She’s out,” he whispered.Ivy, wrapping herself in a soft shawl, nodded. “She’s never out this fast.”“She must be saving up energy to wake us up at three AM.”“Don’t jinx it.”He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I didn’t say anything.”Still barefoot, Ivy padded toward the door and flicked the dimmer switch. The nursery melted into soft shadows.“Wine?” she asked over her shoulder.Van raised an eyebrow. “Are we doing this?”“I think we are.”He didn’t need a second invitation.Downstairs, the house looked different in the low, golden light of the sconce

  • 320. Date Night

    It was well past nine when the house finally fell quiet.The twins were still at Macy’s for their overnight visit, Isadora had retreated early with a book and a soft “no interruptions” warning, and baby Leona— miracle of miracles— had fallen asleep after just ten minutes of Ivy’s singing and a slow sway around the room.Van stood by the crib, watching her tiny chest rise and fall, hands on his hips, head tilted slightly in disbelief.“She’s out,” he whispered.Ivy, wrapping herself in a soft shawl, nodded. “She’s never out this fast.”“She must be saving up energy to wake us up at three AM.”“Don’t jinx it.”He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I didn’t say anything.”Still barefoot, Ivy padded toward the door and flicked the dimmer switch. The nursery melted into soft shadows.“Wine?” she asked over her shoulder.Van raised an eyebrow. “Are we doing this?”“I think we are.”He didn’t need a second invitation.Downstairs, the house looked different in the low, golden light of the sconce

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