Free Web NovelChapter 70: "I’m Home"
Mrs. Pecora stood silently, staring at the hard cooler resting atop the kitchen island.
Inside were sixteen containers of ice cream, freshly made that Sunday morning. Packed neatly alongside them were several ice packs, carefully arranged to keep everything chilled during the journey from the Sartori estate to the Lombardi estate.
Aren wrapped both hands around the sturdy handle and drew in a determined breath. She strained with all her strength, her arms trembling visibly as the cooler lifted perhaps two centimeters off the marble countertop.
Unfortunately, gravity won the battle.
The heavy container landed right back where it had started.
Thud!
Aren frowned.
This had already been her sixth failed attempt.
She blamed it solely on how weak her muscles were, not how unrealistically heavy a cooler could get when packed with that much premium dairy.
Mrs. Pecora quietly sighed to herself at the pitiful display.
"Ahem, my lady," she began politely, "are you quite certain you won’t require assistance with the ice cream?"
"Well..." Aren glanced toward her. "I might have to ask the driver for help. The two of us could probably manage it together."
Mrs. Pecora shook her head with quiet disapproval.
"But you’ll also need to carry the flower bouquet for your father, my lady," she pointed out before gesturing toward the line of maids patiently waiting nearby. "I truly recommend bringing one or two maids with you instead. They can carry the cooler while you focus on presenting the flowers."
"But, Mrs. Pecora," Aren replied earnestly, "you’ll need them here for the housework. I’m sure the driver and I can manage."
A reluctant smile softened Mrs. Pecora’s face.
She stepped closer, smoothing the wrinkles from Aren’s shirt that had formed during her repeated attempts to lift the cooler.
"I’ve managed this household for fifteen years, my lady," she said gently. "I can certainly survive without two maids for a few hours."
She finished straightening the fabric before looking Aren in the eyes.
"But you..." Her voice grew noticeably softer. "You haven’t returned home in a very long time. You should look your very best for your father. It would be far nicer for him to receive flowers from your hands than to watch you wrestle a cooler up the front steps alongside the driver."
Aren fell silent, carefully considering the advice. The more she thought about it, the more sensible it sounded.
"...Alright," she finally conceded with a reluctant nod. "But... may I take Daria with me?"
Mrs. Pecora blinked in surprise.
"Daria?"
"Yes." Aren smiled. "She’s usually assigned only smaller household tasks. Besides, she invited me to a bakery café the other day. We never got to go because Mister Castellano interrupted us. I wish to take her today."
"I see."
Mrs. Pecora considered it briefly before nodding.
"In that case, take Daria and Alice."
She gestured toward one of the maids standing nearby.
"Alice is one of my most capable and trustworthy maids."
Turning to Alice, she instructed,
"Return to the servants’ quarters and fetch Daria. Tell her to dress appropriately and report to the waiting room. You are to accompany Lady Ariana back to the Lombardi estate together."
"Yes, Mrs. Pecora."
Alice bowed respectfully before hurrying from the kitchen. Only a moment later, the kitchen doors swung open once again.
A maid entered carrying a beautifully arranged bouquet of white tulips and blue hydrangeas.
"Lady Ariana," she announced as she approached, "your flower delivery has arrived."
Aren accepted the bouquet with wide, delighted eyes.
The finished arrangement was even more beautiful than the version Daria had tried with the florist days earlier. freewёbnoνel.com
Fresh droplets of water still clung delicately to the petals and glossy green leaves, making the flowers look as though freshly gathered from a morning garden.
She turned toward Mrs. Pecora, unable to hide her excitement.
"Look at them, Mrs. Pecora," she said, holding them out proudly. "Aren’t they beautiful? Thank you so much for your advice."
Mrs. Pecora looked first at the flowers, then at Aren’s radiant smile.
A quiet warmth spread unexpectedly through her chest.
’Lady Ariana has changed so much.’
’She’s like a little child now.’
’Like my own child.’
The unexpected thought caught Mrs. Pecora completely off guard.
A faint blush crept across her cheeks before she discreetly cleared her throat, quickly suppressing any outward trace of it.
"It was only my duty, my lady," she replied with practiced composure.
─ •✧• ─ ✿ ─ •✧• ─
Not long afterward, they arrived in the waiting room. Daria was already there alongside Alice, both dressed neatly as instructed.
The instant Daria saw Aren enter with Mrs. Pecora, she lowered her head respectfully.
"Lady Ariana. Mrs. Pecora," she greeted, sounding every bit as eager and flustered as ever. "It is my pleasure to accompany Lady Ariana back to her home."
Mrs. Pecora gestured toward the large cooler now being carried by two waiting maids.
"You and Alice will assist Lady Ariana with this. She intends to present it to her father."
"Yes, Mrs. Pecora."
Daria bowed obediently, looking sincerely grateful for such a simple assignment.
Inside, however, an entirely different emotion bloomed across her chest.
’Goodness... I didn’t even have to lift a finger.’
’The poor little prey walked straight into my hands.’
’What a waste of all those nights spent planning the perfect excuse.’
Not a trace of those thoughts reached her face.
Instead, she maintained the same warm, attentive smile of a diligent young maid.
"I see the flowers have arrived," Daria remarked pleasantly, gesturing toward the bouquet in Aren’s hands. "Are you pleased with them, my lady?"
Aren’s smile brightened immediately.
"They’re even more beautiful than I imagined, Daria. Thank you so much for helping me."
Just as the words left her lips, the deep groan of the estate’s front gates echoed through the house.
Moments later, the sleek black Lombardi sedan rolled through the entrance before coming to a smooth stop at the front steps.
Aren turned toward Alice and Daria, anticipation lighting up her face.
"It looks like it’s time to go." freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
Her smile widened.
"Shall we?"
─ •✧• ─ ✿ ─ •✧• ─
The sedan arrived at the Lombardi estate an hour later.
A light drizzle drifted from the gray sky, casting the prestigious Lombardi district in a veil of muted silver.
Unlike the Sartori estate’s sleek, contemporary luxury, the Lombardi manor carried the elegance of another era — more ornate, more imposing, yet touched by the quiet wear of time.
Dust lingered in forgotten corners, and the faded stone seemed to tell stories of a family that had once stood at the height of glory.
Gian Lombardi appeared at the grand entrance almost the moment the sedan came to a halt. The instant he had heard the estate gates creak open, he had made his way toward the front doors.
When his eyes finally landed on his daughter standing at the foot of the steps, an umbrella in one hand, something inside him gave way.
Joy, relief, disbelief, longing... so many emotions surged through him at once that he could scarcely name them.
Then, he noticed the flowers.
His entire composure shattered.
Without a second thought, he snatched an umbrella from the butler beside him, fast enough to startle the man, and hurried down the rain-slicked steps so quickly that both the butler and several servants rushed after him, fearful the aging Don might lose his footing.
"Ariana!" he called, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re home!"
The sight of him immediately brightened Aren’s expression.
Holding her umbrella overhead, she hurried up the stairs to meet him halfway.
He looked older now than when she had last seen him. His step was less steady, his features sharper and worn thin. The Lombardi Don must have spent the past few weeks trying to claw House Lombardi back to life from the ashes.
When they met midway on the staircase, Aren extended the bouquet toward him with both hands.
"Father," she said, smiling softly. "I’m home."
For a moment, Gian simply stared at her.
Those three simple words struck him harder than any declaration ever could.
He had convinced himself he would never hear them again. With trembling fingers, he accepted the bouquet.
"Tulips?" he murmured, studying the arrangement. "And hydrangeas?"
"Mrs. Pecora told me they symbolize new beginnings, gratitude, and regret," Aren explained earnestly. "I hope you like them."
Gian looked down at the bouquet once more before lifting his eyes to his daughter’s open, sincere face.
"I absolutely love them," he said quietly.
His weathered hands closed gently around hers, unable to stop trembling.
"Come," he urged. "Come inside. I’ve already prepared tea."
Aren nodded, her smile softened further.
She placed a supportive hand against his back as they slowly climbed the remaining steps together.
Around them, members of the Lombardi household stood frozen.
The butler, the maids, even the guards —many discreetly turned away, pretending to busy themselves as they wiped at eyes suddenly blurred with tears.
None of them could quite believe what they were witnessing.
Lady Ariana had come home.
─ •✧• ─ ✿ ─ •✧• ─
Together, father and daughter walked through the estate’s magnificent corridors.
They soon entered the grand living room, where a polished tea service waited upon the coffee table.
Aren settled into the couch opposite Gian, her curiosity immediately drawn to the elegant furnishings decorating every corner of the room.
Meanwhile, Gian carefully poured tea into two cups himself before gently sliding one across the table toward her.
His hands were still not entirely steady.
He had prepared a speech. In fact, he had spent nearly six hours rehearsing it in his mind.
Now that she was actually sitting before him, every carefully chosen word had abandoned him.
"Ariana," he said at last, simply gesturing toward the cup. "Your tea."
Aren looked back at him and accepted the cup with both hands, her face lighting up.
"Thank you, Father."
For a while, neither of them spoke.
They simply sipped their tea in comfortable silence, quietly adjusting to the unfamiliar yet deeply cherished experience of sitting together again.
Eventually, Gian’s attention drifted toward the large hard cooler that Alice and Daria had carried into the room.
His brows rose with curious amusement.
"It seems you’ve brought me more than flowers today."
"Yes," Aren replied enthusiastically, clearly pleased he had asked. "It’s part of my daily lessons at the Sartori estate."
She smiled with unmistakable pride.
"Would you like to try some?"
Gian blinked at her.
Even now, he found it difficult to believe that his daughter had actually learned to make ice cream.
At last, a warm, indulgent smile spread across his face.
"Of course," he said.
