At exactly 11:00 a.m., Carmilla's car pulled up to the driveway of the Hunt residence, nestled in one of New York's quiet, upscale neighborhoods. The black tinted vehicle came to a smooth halt in front of the elegant brick house that had once been her childhood home.
"Ma'am Carmilla has arrived!" the house servant announced, her voice echoing through the marbled hallway, reaching the ears of Mr. and Mrs. Hunt almost instantly.
The couple exchanged a quick glance before hurrying toward the entrance of the house. The door swung open, and as they stepped onto the wide porch, their eyes landed on Carmilla emerging gracefully from the backseat of the car. Dressed in soft beige slacks and a neatly pressed blouse, she looked every bit the refined woman she had grown into.
Mr. Hunt, a sturdy man with greying temples and a warm smile, was the first to greet her.
"We've missed you so much, kiddo. How's married life treating you?" he asked, patting her on the back with paternal affection.
Carmilla's eyes sparkled as she met her father's gaze. "It's been amazing, Dad."
"It's so great to see you," Mrs. Hunt added, wrapping her daughter in an uncharacteristically warm hug.
Caught off guard, Carmilla hesitated for a second before returning the embrace. "It's so great to see both of you. I've missed you guys so much," she said as they stepped inside together.
The house smelled to her, of course nothing has changed about it. The house was so bright inside which brought out all of it beauty. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, casting a soft glow across the spacious living room where they settled.
"Miss Flora, please bring some water for Carmilla. She looks exhausted," Mr. Hunt instructed with concern as they settled down in the living room.
"It's okay, Dad. I won't be staying long anyway. Ma'am Margaret is expecting me back to join the family's dinner," Carmilla replied, rubbing her palms against her thighs.
" He's not asking you to eat, just to have some water. You look worn out," her mother urged, gesturing to Miss Flora, who had already begun making her way to the kitchen.
"So... how's it over there? Are they treating you well?" Mr. Hunt asked, his voice tinged with a trace of anxiety as he leaned slightly forward in his chair.
"One can tell she's doing fine just by her appearance," Mrs. Hunt interjected, attempting to calm her husband's nerves with a firm nod.
"They're treating me well. They allow me to do what I want," Carmilla replied honestly, accepting the glass of water Miss Flora had just brought in.
Her father continued watching her quietly, letting her sip the water before speaking again.
"That's good to hear. I'm glad they're keeping up to their name."
Carmilla nodded slowly in response, placing the empty glass gently on the side table.
"But tell me, Cam, have you thought about how you're going to balance your new life with your former one? I mean, traveling back to L.A. to continue working is not something you should abandon," Mr. Hunt said, his face turning serious.
Carmilla let out a soft sigh. She had been expecting this conversation.
"Actually, I've thought about it, Dad. I plan to bring it up with Ma'am Margaret. It looks like she's the one who gives the orders in the family."
She hesitated briefly before adding, "But I plan to leave New York City after one week."
"That's the best thing to do," her mother chimed in unexpectedly. "You shouldn't make rash decisions by yourself like the way you did in the past. You should understand that you have two families now. And whatever decision you make, you should ensure that they both support you."
Mr. Hunt turned to his wife, surprised by her sudden wisdom. "That's something new you've said, honey, especially to your daughter."
He reached over and placed a firm, reassuring hand on Carmilla's shoulder. "We've always known you'll make the right decision."
With a deep breath and a sense of peace washing over her, Carmilla smiled. She was glad to be home, even if it was only for a short while. The warmth of her father's touch and the surprising shift in her mother's attitude made her feel genuinely loved. Perhaps it was her decision to marry that softened her mother's heart. Whatever the reason, Carmilla was grateful.
In a different part of New York City, the atmosphere couldn't have been more opposite. In a hidden room behind an old speakeasy-style bar in the Lower East Side, the air was heavy with the scent of tobacco and aged liquor. The place had been soundproofed and decorated like an old mob den—exposed brick walls, leather armchairs, and a long mahogany table surrounded by shadowy figures. Dust danced in the narrow rays of light that peeked through the closed blinds.
Vinnie sat at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair with a thick cigar between his fingers. His cold eyes were half-lidded as smoke curled around his face, giving him an almost spectral appearance. Behind him hung a large painting of an eagle perched atop a bleeding crown, his symbol of power.
"Boss, I've got some news," came the gravelly voice of Dan, one of Vinnie's most trusted men, as he walked into the room with a confident gait.
Vinnie looked up slowly, his expression unreadable. "What is it, Dan?"
"It's about the Harringtons," Dan replied, dropping into the chair opposite his boss.
Vinnie's attention sharpened at the name.
"Their first son, Harrison, has gotten married."
An eyebrow arched slightly. "Oh? Who's the lucky girl?"
"None other than the Hunt daughter. She goes by the name Carmilla," Dan said, a smug grin creeping across his face.
For a moment, silence hung in the room before Vinnie's eyes widened.
"The Hunt daughter? That's a big catch. Who knows what she's planning. Margaret must be thrilled."
Dan nodded in agreement. "From one of our men, they said she's keeping a low profile, but she's definitely involved in some shady dealings. They also reported that she's been using her connections to smuggle goods into the city."
Vinnie's demeanor changed instantly. His relaxed posture vanished as his expression turned cold and calculated.
"That woman is a menace. She thinks she's above the law. But she's not. Not as long as I'm around."
Dan knew Vinnie's grudge ran far deeper than any business rivalry. Margaret Harrington had ordered the hit that killed Vinnie's younger brother, Nathan, years ago. Since then, Vinnie had been quietly building power, waiting for the right moment to strike.
"What do you want me to do, boss?" Dan asked, fully aware that Vinnie was already several steps ahead in his mind.
Vinnie flicked ash into the tray beside him, his gaze hardening. "I want you to keep digging, Dan. Find out everything you can about the Harringtons and their business dealings. I want to know their secrets, their weaknesses. And then we'll use that information to take them down."
Dan stood with a nod, the thrill of the mission lighting up his eyes. Taking on the Harringtons wouldn't be easy—but it was a challenge he welcomed.
"I'm on it, boss."
He had barely reached the door when Vinnie's voice stopped him.
"Dan?"
"Yes, boss?"
Vinnie's eyes were sharp as steel. "Make sure you and your men are careful. The Harrington's, especially Margaret are not to be underestimated. They'll stop at nothing to protect themselves and their business."
Dan gave a curt nod, He already knew what was at stake. He didn't need to be told.