PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!!!!!!
COMMENT AND VOTE. IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:) STOP BEING A GHOST READER

STOP BEING A GHOST READER!!
i'm sorry for all the notifications but us writers work hard on these chapters. i know i ask this a lot, but i really don't like ghost readers because i work super hard on these chapters so when i see views going up but votes are not... its hard for my motivation!

The dull clink of silverware being wiped, the hum of soft conversation, and the sizzling sounds from the kitchen were the only things keeping Marisol's mind occupied as she worked at the diner. The low murmur of patrons talking, the occasional beep of the cash register, and the smell of grilled cheese sandwiches and freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air. But none of it could drown out the constant ache in her chest.

It had been a month since the Sekai Taikai, a month since her dad, George, had grounded her for switching sides at the tournament, a month since the weight of her decisions had fully sunk in. And in that time, things hadn't gotten easier. Every single day felt like a struggle as she worked double shifts at the diner just to avoid going home, trying to make up for everything she felt she'd ruined.

Her boss, a middle-aged man named Roy, wasn't bad-just old-school and no-nonsense. He'd been running the diner for as long as she could remember, and if he didn't give her trouble about the odd shift here and there, at least he didn't ask too many questions. But he had his way of making sure she was kept busy-constant orders to take, tables to clear, coffee to serve.

Marisol adjusted her apron, feeling the fabric scratch against her neck as she wiped down the counter for what seemed like the millionth time. The dull ache of exhaustion settled into her bones, but she wasn't about to complain. Complaining wouldn't make it go away.

She stole a glance at her little sister, Mila, sitting at the end of the counter with her notebook spread out in front of her. Her little sister's schoolwork had become a constant fixture in the diner, as if Mila was trying to help distract herself from the tension between their family and the reality of Marisol's punishment. Mila had been quiet about everything, which was odd, but then again, Mila was always a little different. The look on her face now was not one of a carefree teenager, but more like someone who was biding her time-waiting.

As Marisol set down another cup of coffee, she heard Mila's voice, laced with a teasing tone. "So, Marisol... when's Axel coming to visit?" Mila's gaze flickered up from her textbook, mischief dancing in her eyes. "You know, since he lives all the way over in Germany and all. Must be hard to keep a relationship going that far apart."

The words hit Marisol like a slap to the face, and she immediately tensed. She could feel her blood pressure spike, her heartbeat quicken. Mila had always had a way of digging at her, pushing her buttons when she least expected it. And this? This was low. Her relationship with Axel, once something she held dear, had now become a source of shame and frustration.

"Stop it, Mila," Marisol said, forcing her voice to stay even. She didn't want to give her sister the satisfaction of seeing her riled up. But it wasn't working. The anger rose in her chest, bubbling up like hot coals. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

Mila's grin didn't fade. In fact, she leaned in slightly, clearly enjoying the reaction she'd gotten. "Oh, come on. I bet you can't even text him anymore. I mean, if he's really as great as you say, why is he still all the way over there? Why can't you talk to him? Does Dad stop you?" Mila's voice was almost sing-song as she twisted the knife, clearly amused by the discomfort she was causing.

The words hit too close to home. Marisol's eyes burned with frustration. She quickly wiped down the counter again, gripping the rag a little too tightly. Her thoughts swirled-Axel had been there for her when no one else was. But now, after everything that had happened, after her dad's anger, after the fight at the tournament, she couldn't reach him. She couldn't even contact him because George had taken away her phone, grounding her as a punishment.

It wasn't even about the punishment anymore. It was about the betrayal she felt from both sides-Axel being thousands of miles away in Germany and her dad's expectations weighing her down. She felt trapped, caught in a situation she didn't know how to get out of.

Her breath hitched as she met Mila's eyes. She wasn't going to let her sister make this worse. "You have no right to joke about this, Mila," Marisol snapped, her voice sharp and biting. "You don't understand what I'm going through, and I don't need you making it worse." She didn't know why she was yelling. Maybe it was the tension finally breaking or the guilt of the whole situation, but her emotions spilled over like a dam about to burst.

Mila's teasing smile faltered, replaced by a look of confusion, but Marisol was already turning away from her, her back stiff. She was done with this conversation.

"You don't get it, okay?" Marisol's voice cracked as she muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. "You just... you don't get it."

But before she could walk away, George-who had been absent from the diner for most of the afternoon-walked in, his face set in a hard, disapproving frown. He glanced briefly at Mila, who had already turned her attention back to her homework, before his eyes locked on Marisol. She straightened as soon as she saw him, automatically shifting into a more professional stance, the weight of his disapproval always hanging over her head.

"Get back to work, Marisol," he barked, not sparing her a second glance before he made his way to the back to check on the kitchen staff.

Marisol felt the familiar pang of resentment gnaw at her stomach, but she didn't have the strength to argue with him right now. The conversation with Mila had left her too emotionally drained to fight. Instead, she simply nodded, turning away from her sister and reaching for another coffee pot.

Mila looked up, the light from the diner's overhead lights reflecting off her glasses, but didn't say anything. It was as if Marisol's outburst had affected her too, though she wouldn't admit it. The diner grew quiet again, save for the clattering of dishes and the low hum of background music.

And as Marisol stood there, pouring coffee into mugs she didn't care about, the knot in her chest only tightened. What did it all mean? Would Axel still want her after everything? Would she ever be able to fix things with her dad? All these questions swirled in her mind, but the one thing that was certain was this: Marisol was trapped in a world where the pieces didn't fit, and the more she tried to make them, the more things fell apart.

Marisol leaned against the breakroom door, the hum of the diner fading as she pulled her phone from her pocket. The weight of the world felt like it was pressing on her shoulders, and she couldn't take it anymore. She needed to hear Axel's voice. It had been weeks, and the silence had only made her heart ache more. He was across the ocean, in Germany, and it was hard to feel connected to him with the distance and everything that had happened.

She stared at her phone, the screen glowing brightly in her hand. She had tried to text him a few times, but those messages went unanswered-until now. She took a deep breath, pressing the call button.

The ringing felt endless as she waited, her thumb tapping nervously against the phone. Finally, the line clicked, and Axel's voice came through, smooth and warm.

"Marisol?" His voice cracked slightly, as if he'd been waiting for this call as much as she had.

"I... I can't believe you picked up," she whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Axel's voice was laced with longing, and she could practically feel the distance between them disappearing. "I've been thinking about you every day. How've you been?"

"I've been..." Marisol paused, unsure how to explain. Her world had been full of tension, her father's disapproval weighing down on her every step. "It's been hard. Everything's just... so complicated. You know how it is."

"I can imagine," Axel replied softly. "I wish I could be there with you."

Marisol smiled, her chest tightening at the thought of him. She wanted to say more, to talk about everything, but just as she was about to, the door to the breakroom creaked open. She froze, her heart sinking as she heard the familiar voice.

"Hey, Marisol," Eli called from the doorway, his tone casual but with an edge that made her gut twist.

She instantly felt the sharp contrast between the warmth of Axel's voice and Eli's, and it only deepened her sense of discomfort. She felt like a different person with Axel-calm, understood, loved without all the drama. But with Eli? It was always chaos, always trying to fix things that didn't need fixing.

"Eli, I... I'm on the phone," Marisol said quickly, her voice strained. She turned her back to him, hoping he would get the hint.

Axel's voice came through her phone again, his words a lifeline. "Marisol? What's going on? Who's there?"

"Sorry," she whispered into the phone, feeling torn. She glanced at Eli, who was stepping closer, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and desperation. "I'll call you back when I can. Just... just give me a little time."

Marisol hung up the phone before Axel could reply, and then turned her attention to Eli, her heart pounding. "What do you want, Eli?"

He took a step forward, his face a mix of concern and confusion. "I just... I don't get it, Marisol. You're with him now? Just like that?" He gestured between them, his tone rising. "How could you move on so quickly? We've been through so much together, and now-Axel?"

Marisol's heart raced as she took a deep breath, her voice steady but firm. "It's simple, Eli. With you and me, we were just toxic. We were always fighting, always caught up in drama. But with Axel... it's different. It's real, Eli. He makes me feel like I'm actually loved, like I'm enough. No fighting, no drama, just love."

Eli's face fell, the hurt visible in his eyes as he opened his mouth to say something. "Marisol, wait-"

"No," she cut him off, her voice firm and final. "I don't want to hear it. I'm done with all the excuses, Eli. I don't want to talk to you about this anymore."

Before Eli could respond, Marisol turned on her heel, storming out of the breakroom. Her breath caught in her throat as she headed back toward the main area of the diner, the voices of the staff filling the air. She wasn't sure where to go or what to do, but her feet carried her forward, out of the tension-filled room with Eli.

She rounded the corner of the back hallway and froze in her tracks. The sight before her made her blood run cold.

Mila and Anthony, her best friend's younger brother, were standing in the backroom near the supply closet. Their lips were locked in a passionate kiss, and for a moment, Marisol couldn't move.

Her heart hammered in her chest, a wave of shock and anger crashing over her. She'd seen this coming, but seeing it now-right in front of her-was another thing entirely.

"Are you serious?" Marisol's voice cracked as she stepped forward, her fists clenched in frustration. "What the hell are you two doing back here? This is the backroom, not your private make-out space!"

Mila pulled away quickly, wide-eyed and guilty, while Anthony looked equally stunned. Marisol's chest rose and fell with each breath, the anger bubbling inside her. "You can't be back here, kissing like that. Are you both out of your minds?"

"I-sorry, Marisol," Mila muttered, her face flushed with embarrassment. Anthony only nodded, his gaze shifting from Marisol to the door.

"This isn't the place for this," Marisol snapped, turning on her heel and heading back to the front of the diner. "If you can't respect the boundaries here, then you're gonna have to leave."

She was done. She was done with Eli, done with her family's expectations, and done with everything that felt like it was weighing her down. She needed out. Needed Axel. Needed a life where she wasn't being pulled in every direction.

She wasn't sure when it would happen or how, but she knew one thing for certain: she couldn't keep living like this.

Marisol groggily tied her apron around her waist, yawning as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror. The early morning shift at the café was never her favorite, but at least the quiet hum of the morning routine brought her a sense of peace. She adjusted her hair into a neat ponytail, glancing at the time on her phone. 6:45 AM. If she left soon, she'd have enough time to grab a coffee before heading to LaRusso Auto Group after her shift.

Just as she grabbed her bag from the chair, a faint noise caught her attention-movement coming from Mila's room. Marisol froze, her brows knitting together. Mila was supposed to be asleep. And that noise? It wasn't her sister tossing and turning. It was... deliberate.

Marisol's suspicions were confirmed when she heard the soft creak of a door opening. She turned just in time to see someone-Anthony LaRusso-slinking out of Mila's bedroom, his face tense with focus like he was on some kind of stealth mission.

Marisol's mouth fell open in shock. "Are you kidding me?"

Anthony's entire body stiffened as if he had just been caught committing a crime. Which, in a way, he had. His wide eyes met hers, and for a second, neither of them moved.

Then, with the worst attempt at playing it cool, Anthony flashed an awkward smile. "Uh... morning?"

Marisol crossed her arms. "Get. Out."

Anthony, to his credit, didn't even argue. He nodded once-too fast-then practically bolted down the hall, his socks sliding against the hardwood floor as he scrambled toward the stairs.

With a deep breath, Marisol turned back to Mila's door and pushed it open without waiting for permission.

Mila, still in bed, groaned and pulled her blanket over her head. "Oh my god, Mari, can you not?"

Marisol stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. "You're lucky Dad didn't see that," she hissed, keeping her voice low but firm. "Do you want to get grounded for life?"

Mila peeked out from under the blanket, her dark curls a mess, and rolled her eyes. "He was just here for a second."

"Yeah, and if Dad walked in and saw Anthony sneaking out of your room, a second would be all it took for him to have a heart attack."

Mila groaned again, this time sitting up. "Relax. Nothing happened. We were just talking."

Marisol scoffed. "I'm sure that's exactly what Dad would believe." She shook her head, exasperated. "Look, do what you want, but be smart about it."

Mila waved her off, flopping back down with a dramatic sigh, and Marisol decided she wasn't about to argue at six in the morning. With one last warning look, she turned on her heel and left the room.

As she made her way downstairs, she could already hear voices coming from the kitchen. It didn't take long to recognize them-her dad, George, and Natasha, her Russian stepmother.

"-I just don't see why we keep dragging this on," Natasha was saying, her accent thick, but her tone sharper than usual. "It is business. Not war."

George grumbled something under his breath, and Marisol entered the kitchen just in time to see her father rubbing his temples like he was already regretting whatever conversation they were having. Natasha stood next to him at the kitchen counter, gesturing at a folded document in George's hands.

"What's going on?" Marisol asked, setting her bag down on the table.

George looked up, seeming almost relieved to see her. "Perfect timing, mija." He walked over and held up the letter. "I need you to drop this off at LaRusso Auto Group on your way to work."

Marisol frowned as she took the envelope from him. "What is it?"

"A business proposal," George replied simply.

Marisol's eyes scanned over the letter-and then her stomach dropped.

Her head snapped up. "Wait. This says you're asking for a partnership between Cervantes Auto and LaRusso Auto."

George leaned back against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. "That's what it says, yeah."

Marisol gawked at him. "Are you serious? You and Daniel have been competing for years, and now you're just-what?-letting it go?"

George sighed, shaking his head. "Marisol. Mija." His voice was softer now, almost tired. "It's time for me to let go of the past." He paused, meeting her eyes with a pointed look. "And maybe... you should, too."

Marisol felt something tighten in her chest. She knew exactly what he was referring to-not just the rivalry between their businesses, but everything that had come with it. The old wounds, the grudges, the way she'd spent so many years resenting the LaRussos and everything tied to them.

She swallowed hard, looking back down at the letter.

"I'll drop it off," she muttered.

George smiled knowingly. "Good."

Natasha clapped her hands together, looking pleased. "Finally, some sense."

Marisol shot her a glare before tucking the letter into her bag and grabbing her coffee. She didn't know how she felt about all of this yet, but one thing was for sure: Daniel LaRusso was about to be just as shocked as she was.

Marisol smoothed down the skirt of her café uniform as she stepped into LaRusso Auto Group, the familiar chime of the door ringing in her ears. She had never quite gotten used to the maid-like appearance of the outfit, with its crisp white apron and slightly frilly edges, but at this point, she barely cared. It was early, she hadn't had enough caffeine, and she just wanted to drop off the letter and be on her way.

The showroom was already alive with activity, a blend of hushed conversations, ringing phones, and the distant sound of a car engine starting up outside. The air smelled of fresh leather and car polish, a stark contrast to the warm, sugary scents of the café.

Marisol spotted Daniel LaRusso near the front desk, flipping through a stack of paperwork. He looked relaxed, dressed in his usual blazer and slacks, completely in his element as he oversaw his dealership.

Taking a breath, she strode over, the soft click of her shoes against the polished floor barely audible over the background noise.

Daniel looked up as she approached, his expression shifting into one of recognition. "Hey, Marisol," he greeted with an easy smile. Then, before she could say a word, he grinned in amusement. "Wanna know who I sold a car to this morning?"

Marisol blinked at the sudden change of subject. "Uh... sure?"

From a few feet away, Sam let out a dramatic groan. "Oh my God, Dad, again?"

Daniel ignored his daughter's exasperation and turned back to Marisol, the excitement still present in his voice. "A guy from UCLA Admissions."

Marisol's eyebrows lifted slightly, but before she could react, her gaze instinctively flickered toward Sam.

UCLA.

The school Sam had been talking about for years. The place she had dreamed of attending, the one she had worked so hard to get into.

And yet...

There it was-that hesitation. That flicker of something in Sam's expression. A barely-there frown that disappeared almost as soon as it appeared, replaced with a polite, neutral smile. It was subtle, something most people wouldn't have noticed. But Marisol wasn't most people.

Still, she didn't call attention to it. Instead, she turned back to Daniel and pulled the envelope from her bag, handing it over. "This is from my dad. He wanted me to drop it off on my way to work."

Daniel took the envelope with mild surprise, flipping it over in his hands. "A proposal?" His brows furrowed slightly. "From your dad?"

Marisol smirked at his skepticism. "Yep."

"I'm almost afraid to open it."

"You should be."

Daniel let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he tucked the envelope under his arm. Marisol, however, turned her attention back to Sam, offering a small, casual smile.

"Hey, Sam."

Sam's posture shifted slightly, her arms still crossed over her chest. Her eyes lingered on Marisol for a moment, just a little too long. "Hey."

It was brief, but in that second, the rest of the room seemed to fade into the background. The buzzing conversations, the movement of salespeople, even Daniel flipping through his papers-none of it mattered.

Because there was something there.

Something unspoken.

A weight between them, built from old memories and words that had never been said.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. Sam looked away, clearing her throat, and Marisol took the hint.

"See you around, LaRussos," she muttered before turning on her heel and heading toward the exit.

But as she pushed through the door and stepped out into the warm sunlight, she couldn't shake the feeling that something between them wasn't quite over.

Marisol stepped out of LaRusso Auto Group, her fingers still tingling from the brief but tense exchange with Daniel. The envelope from her father had been handed over, Daniel had taken it with mild curiosity, and Sam... well, Sam had looked at her in a way that made Marisol's stomach twist.

She pushed those thoughts aside as she walked across the parking lot, her work shoes clicking lightly against the pavement. The late morning sun was already climbing higher, casting sharp shadows along the asphalt. Marisol unlocked her car and slid into the driver's seat, exhaling as she tossed her bag onto the passenger side.

Just as she reached for the ignition, her phone buzzed against her thigh.

She glanced at the screen, her brows drawing together slightly.

Hollis.

She hesitated. Her cousin wasn't exactly the most consistent with checking in. But he wouldn't call for no reason, which meant...

Her stomach dropped a little.

With a sigh, she swiped to answer. "Hey."

"Hey, prima," Hollis greeted, his voice casual, but Marisol could hear something else lurking beneath it. That familiar careful tone, like he was waiting for the right moment to say whatever was actually on his mind.

She didn't give him the chance. "Did my dad call you?"

There was a slight pause, just enough for her to know she was right. Then came the short, knowing chuckle. "Yeah. He did."

Of course, he did.

Marisol rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat, her fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "Figures."

"I heard about what happened at the Sekai Taikai," Hollis continued, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Your dad told me that your new boyfriend-what's his name? Axel?-is the one who started that brawl?"

Marisol exhaled sharply, already feeling the tight coil of annoyance forming in her chest. "So?"

"So?" Hollis echoed, incredulous. "Marisol, isn't that a giant red flag to you? Your boyfriend started a fight at a world tournament. Do you not see the problem here?"

Her fingers curled against the wheel, her nails pressing into her palm. "He didn't start it," she muttered, even though she wasn't entirely sure if that was true.

Hollis let out a dry laugh. "Oh, come on. That's what you're going with?"

Marisol gritted her teeth. "Why do you even care?"

"Because I'm your cousin, and I actually give a damn," Hollis snapped. "And I don't want you getting mixed up with some guy who's throwing punches like a damn lunatic. I mean, what even happened with Eli?"

The name hit her like a punch to the gut.

Her fingers twitched, her chest tightening with something she didn't want to name. Eli. She didn't even know how to answer that question.

So she didn't.

Instead, she scoffed, shaking her head. "You know what, Hollis? You barely call. You barely text. So why should I tell you anything?"

Hollis sighed on the other end. "Marisol-"

"Bye."

She hung up before he could get another word in, her pulse thrumming in her ears.

The silence that followed was almost deafening.

With a frustrated breath, she threw the phone onto the passenger seat and gripped the wheel tighter, her knuckles turning white for a moment before she finally turned the key in the ignition.

She didn't need this today.

Marisol shut the door to her house, kicking off her shoes with a tired sigh. The day had been long, filled with endless coffee orders, impatient customers, and that tense moment with Daniel at LaRusso Auto Group. Now, all she wanted was a long shower and some food-except she had one more problem.

She had no idea what to wear to the 18th Anniversary Party.

Pulling out her phone, she scrolled through her contacts until she found Peter's name. If anyone could help, it was him.

The call barely rang twice before his voice came through, bright and full of energy. "Marisol! What's up, babe?"

Marisol flopped onto her couch, groaning dramatically. "I have a fashion crisis."

"Oh, no," Peter gasped, playing along. "Tell me everything."

"The LaRusso Auto Group anniversary party is tomorrow, and I have nothing to wear. I need something classy, something hot-but not too hot, you know?"

Peter hummed, already deep in thought. "Okay, what are we working with? Do you have any new dresses?"

Marisol sighed. "I have a red one, but it's too much. A navy one, but I wore it last year. And a white one that's... meh."

"Absolutely not," Peter said immediately. "None of those. You need black silk."

Marisol raised an eyebrow. "Black silk?"

"Yes! A black silk dress. It's timeless, elegant, and you'll look drop-dead gorgeous. Trust me."

She considered it, already picturing it in her mind. "You think?"

"I know." Peter's voice was full of conviction. "A black silk dress, minimal accessories-maybe a sleek ponytail or soft waves. Simple, but sexy."

Marisol grinned. "Peter, you're a genius."

"I know, darling," he teased. "It's my curse."

She laughed, feeling the stress ease from her shoulders. "I'll go shopping tomorrow. Thank you, seriously."

"Anytime, babe." There was a pause before Peter added, "Actually... while we're talking, I wanted to tell you something."

Marisol frowned slightly, sitting up. "Of course. What's up?"

Peter hesitated for a second, then took a deep breath. "So, um... I'm gay."

Silence stretched between them for a beat. Not because Marisol was shocked, but because she could tell this moment mattered.

Then, without missing a beat, she grinned. "Well, it's about time."

Peter let out a startled laugh. "Wait-what?"

Marisol chuckled. "Peter, I've known. I was just waiting for you to say it."

He exhaled, relief flooding his voice. "You knew?"

"Dude, you once made me pause a movie so we could properly appreciate Henry Cavill's jawline," she teased. "The signs were there."

Peter groaned. "Oh my god. That was one time."

Marisol laughed. "Peter, I love you. This changes nothing."

There was a small sniff on the other end before Peter cleared his throat. "You're the best, Marisol."

"I know," she said, her tone light. "It's my curse."

Peter burst out laughing, and Marisol smiled to herself, knowing that no matter what, their friendship wasn't changing.

Marisol stood in front of her mirror one last time, adjusting the black silk dress that Peter had recommended. The fabric clung to her in all the right ways-sleek, smooth, and effortlessly chic. Her hair cascaded in soft waves down her back, and her makeup was subtle but elegant. She was ready-maybe more than ready-but as she turned toward the door, a sudden wave of doubt washed over her.

Mila had insisted on staying home to binge-watch a show, and while Marisol was perfectly fine with that, she couldn't shake the feeling of being alone in this moment. The LaRusso Auto Group 18th Anniversary Party was a big deal, and she didn't want to embarrass herself.

But no, she thought, shaking her head. Peter said I'd look great. She'd put a lot of trust in her best friend's fashion sense, and if there was anyone who knew about style, it was Peter.

She walked to her car, trying to steady her nerves. The drive to the dealership was quick, and before long, she was pulling into the parking lot, the lights of LaRusso Auto Group gleaming in the darkened night. As she walked through the entrance, her eyes immediately caught the sight of the crowd gathered inside.

Marisol's heart skipped a beat. Everyone was dressed so casually. There were dresses, of course, but nothing like the silk gown she wore. No, it was more of a laid-back vibe, casual yet stylish-perfectly comfortable for a night out but not as polished as what she had on.

Panic bubbled in her chest, and she instantly began to feel self-conscious. Did she overdo it? Was the black silk dress too much for this kind of event? She stood just inside the door for a moment, trying to gauge if she should turn around and head straight back to her car, when she noticed Sam standing by the bar, laughing with a few people.

Without thinking, Marisol walked over, her heels clicking on the floor. Sam's eyes landed on her almost immediately, and she gave Marisol a warm, welcoming smile.

"Hey, Marisol!" Sam greeted, her voice light and full of energy. But as her eyes took in Marisol's dress, her smile widened even more. "Wow, you look stunning!"

Marisol's cheeks flushed at the compliment. She shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the rest of the crowd behind Sam. "Uh, thanks. I-uh, I just realized I might have... overdone it," she admitted, glancing around. "Everyone else is more casual. Did I make a mistake wearing this?"

Sam blinked for a moment before shaking her head. "No, not at all! You look amazing, Marisol. Seriously." She stepped closer, giving her a once-over. "I love the dress. It's classy, and you totally pull it off. Besides, you're here to celebrate, right? You deserve to look as good as you feel."

Marisol let out a relieved breath, her shoulders relaxing. "I was starting to second-guess myself."

"You look gorgeous. Trust me, you're good," Sam reassured her, her smile warm and sincere.

Marisol couldn't help the soft blush that spread across her cheeks, feeling the heat rise as she nodded. "Thanks, Sam. You always know how to make me feel better."

"No problem!" Sam said, beaming. "It's easy when you've got someone who looks like they belong on a runway." She tilted her head playfully. "You should be more confident about your fashion choices!"

Marisol smiled, her nerves finally starting to settle. "Well, Peter did help me pick this out. He's the real genius behind it."

Sam laughed. "I could tell. He's got a good eye. Maybe you should take him shopping with you more often."

Marisol laughed along, feeling more at ease now. She adjusted the strap on her dress, her confidence slowly returning. "Thanks, Sam. I needed that."

"Anytime," Sam replied with a wink. "You're going to knock everyone out tonight. I can already tell."

Marisol gave her a shy smile and a nod before turning to mingle with the rest of the guests. As she walked away, she couldn't help but feel lighter, her worries slipping away. She looked stunning, and Sam's words had given her the reassurance she needed. Now, it was time to enjoy the evening.

The night air was cool as it seeped through the large windows of LaRusso Auto Group's showroom, but the atmosphere inside was warm and alive with conversation, laughter, and the clink of glasses. The guests, a blend of friends, family, and colleagues, moved comfortably around the room, exchanging stories and celebrating the company's 18th anniversary. The showroom gleamed under the soft lighting, the polished cars reflecting the atmosphere of success and longevity.

Marisol, dressed in her black silk dress, stood near the bar, looking around the room as the evening's buzz settled into a lull. Her fingers lightly traced the rim of her glass as she surveyed the crowd, her mind spinning a bit from the nervous energy that still hadn't quite dissipated. She wasn't used to being in places like this-so formal, so important.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Daniel LaRusso step up to a small stage in front of the crowd, holding a glass in his hand. The noise around the room died down as the faint tap of a knife against the glass echoed through the showroom, drawing everyone's attention. Marisol felt her posture straighten instinctively as she turned to face him.

Daniel's warm smile was familiar, his presence commanding yet welcoming, and as he spoke, his voice carried the weight of everything the company had built. "I just want to take a moment to thank all of you for being here with us tonight," he said, his voice filled with pride and sincerity. "We are incredibly lucky to be surrounded by friends, family... and the family that we have chosen-the LaRusso Auto Family."

Marisol stood there, her gaze fixed on Daniel as his words resonated in her chest. Family. It was a word that meant something deeper for her tonight, given everything that had happened over the past few months. She found herself reflecting on the many ways people defined family, whether it was the family you were born into, the family you created, or the family you found along the way. She looked around the room, noting the faces of those who had become part of this journey. Robby. Sam. Even Miguel. People she hadn't expected to be close to, but who had proven time and time again that they were there for her in ways that were undeniable.

Daniel continued, his voice steady and filled with emotion. "Family means that we love and support each other, no matter what. It means standing together through the tough times and celebrating the victories, no matter how big or small. And as I look around this room tonight, I couldn't be prouder of every step forward we've taken together. Because even after eighteen incredible years... there's still so much ahead of us."

Marisol couldn't help but exchange a glance with Miguel standing next to her. He gave her a small smile, the kind that made her heart warm with familiarity. She hadn't been to many events like this, but she could tell there was something different about tonight. It was the anniversary of more than just a company; it was the anniversary of growth, of change, and of overcoming the odds-something that each person in this room could relate to, even if they didn't realize it yet.

Daniel lifted his glass, a gesture that silenced the crowd in anticipation. "So tonight, I want to say thank you. To everyone in this family, both old and new. Here's to the next step forward."

A chorus of cheers and clinking glasses rang out as the room responded, lifting their own drinks in solidarity. Marisol smiled softly and raised her glass to join in, the coolness of the champagne adding a crisp note to the warmth in her chest. Beside her, Sam was grinning ear to ear, her energy contagious as she reached over and tapped her glass against Marisol's, the sharp clink ringing in their ears.

"To the next chapter," Sam said with a playful wink, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

As the cheers began to fade, Sam leaned closer, lowering her voice as she spoke to Marisol, her face serious for a moment. "Hey," she said, glancing around the room. "I heard that the Sekai Taikai is still back on."

The moment the words left Sam's mouth, Marisol could feel the shift in the air. Robby, Miguel, and Marisol all immediately stiffened, exchanging looks of curiosity and determination. The mention of the tournament brought with it the weight of unfinished business.

Marisol's heart skipped a beat, but she didn't hesitate for a second. "Is that true?" she asked, her voice tinged with the hope that the uncertainty of their previous fight would finally lead somewhere.

Sam turned toward Daniel, moving through the crowd with purpose, Robby and Miguel following close behind. Marisol lingered a step behind, her mind racing. What would this mean for them? Would the tournament even happen? How would they manage to face what had come before?

When they reached Daniel, Sam asked again, her voice firm yet filled with anticipation, "Dad, is it true? Is the tournament back on?"

There was a silent exchange between Daniel and Johnny, a moment of unspoken understanding that passed between them before Daniel met the eyes of the group. "It's true," he confirmed, his voice steady yet heavy with the weight of what those words meant. "If that's what you all want."

Marisol could feel the weight of the decision in the air. The challenge was clear. The choice lay before them. It was a chance to finish what they had started, to finally put an end to the doubts and fears they'd been carrying for so long.

Sam, ever confident, smiled and locked eyes with the group. "Bring 'em on."

She turned to Marisol, her eyes bright with that same determination. "So you in?"

Without missing a beat, Marisol smiled back, her voice filled with resolve. "Hell yeah."

And just like that, the air shifted again-this time, with a shared understanding of what was to come. A new chapter, a new challenge, but with a team that was ready to face it all. Together.

ASH SPEAKS!!!

so a lot happening in this chapter!! i think axel might not be endgame and i might cause some drama... i'm pretty sure i know who end game is ;)

also hiii!! welcome back to the final chapters. i can't believe this is happening :( we only have a few chapters left and then this over.

i'm so excited for what is stored left!! so please don't be a ghost reader and keep voting, commenting and reading.

updates will be every 2-5 days only because i have to update a lot more fanfics now! i am not abandoning any fic, i just have more fics to update now so updates MIGHT be slow.

also today is the first day of cobra kai s6 part 3, so no spoilers please for those who might not be finished with cobra kai :)

but again, no ghost readers please!!! this almost the end!! please vote and comment :)