Comeback Of The Adored Heiress
Love Unbreakable
Unspoken Hearts: My Neglected Mute Wife's Escape
Bound By Love: Marrying My Disabled Husband
Moonlit Desires: The CEO's Daring Proposal
Love After Divorce
Poor Billionaire Wife: Who Is The Real Boss?
Tears Of The Moon: A Dance With Lycan Royalty
A Second Chance With My Billionaire Love
The CEO's Runaway Wife
"Ring… ring … ring …"
The alarm clock buzzed persistently, and Mary struggled to lift her feeble arm to shut off the sounds while slumbering vestiges of dreaming. Her delicately curved eyelashes fluttered, revealing dove-like ring eyes, twinkling like the night stars had fallen to the earth, lending an alluring beauty to her oval face. Her hair's soft, chestnut-tinted waves cascaded like miniature breakers against a shore of pale sand. She appeared to be a sleeping princess in her castle, awaiting her prince's arrival to awaken her.
The soothing scent of lavender wafted through her lavishly appointed room. Mary tossed aside her fluffy blanket, climbed out of bed, and flung open the window to let the morning sunlight in. Her petite, soft hand seemed even more captivating with the warm rays of the new day gleaming through it. The objects around the room seemed to awaken with her, revitalizing them after a long slumber. Her soft Teddy bear, propped against the wall, flashed a bright, cheerful smile.
She walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and let the cool water flow over her body. The droplets caressed her youthful and enticing body as if rubbing it. She hadn't taken care of herself in a while due to her busy schedule, so she indulged in a moment of pampering, smiling at her reflection in her favorite large mirror.
She let her soul wander freely, parting from her exhausted physical self, seeking a moment of serenity before stepping into the new day. The scent of lavender, diffused in every nook and cranny of her soul, seemed to remind her of something old yet unforgettable.
Today she was dressed differently than usual. She wore a white silk half-sleeve shirt, a grey skirt with a double row of buttons as a highlight, and a handbag decorated with metal studs, all combined in an exquisite ensemble. Of course, high heels were indispensable - a close companion to many modern women, which not only enhanced their femininity but also expressed their pride. The pastel pink heels, with slender, pointed stems, made her walk more graceful and agile, like a ballerina performing on a grand, dazzling stage.
"Have you had breakfast before heading to work, dear?"
Ana Madam, the housekeeper, just put down a bowl of beef pho and looked towards the stairs as Mary descended, asking gently.
"Yes, I'll eat breakfast before leaving."
She sidled up to her mother in a pretend to be coy. As an only child, she had always been pampered by her parents. Such doting might seem abnormal to outsiders, but it was the norm in this household. If one day she stopped behaving in such a manner, this place would seem devoid of life.
"Wow! Let's see, whose beautiful daughter is this? Can you twirl for me? My daughter has grown so much, hasn't she?"
Mrs. Frank, Mary's mother, admired her daughter's beauty, whom she had given birth to with incredible admiration. She always did this, even after all these years, sometimes overdoing it as if her child were a fairy.
Mr. Frank, her father, shared the sentiment. His daughter was always the best; if he had one wish, it would be for the world to revolve around his little princess.
"Come on; you're my parents. If outsiders hear this, they'll say, a cat praises its tail'. But am I pretty, Mom and Dad?"
Mary playfully chastised her parents for their over-the-top praises, but she felt genuinely happy because of
"Today, what mode of transportation do you plan to take to the publishing house? Do you need me to give you a ride?"
Mary’s father looked at his daughter with a tender, affectionate gaze, full of the gentle love of a parent. Since the day she was born, she had been a gift bestowed upon him by a higher power. This gift was not measured by material possessions or monetary value; it was priceless, like a magical enchantment.
"Well, I'll take the bus, Father. I don't need your help; I can manage independently."
Mary declined her father's offer of assistance. She knew that he was always worried about her, concerned that she might get lost road, encounter dangerous individuals, or face difficulties. However, she understood that she had grown up and it was time for her to take care of herself, even for simple tasks like commuting from home to the office. She was not a little snail that could stay forever within her protective shell.
"No, my dear, it's not safe to go alone. Since you were young, have you ever taken the bus yourself?"
Her mother expressed her concern. In her eyes, Mary was forever a little child; she cradled in her arms and sang lullabies whenever she cried.
"Alright, if you say so, listen to me, Mother. I also need to allow Mary to become independent and mature."
Ass if understanding his daughter's thoughts, Mary's father gently persuaded her mother. He was indeed a psychologically understanding father whom countless children longed for. Looking into her eyes, he knew what his daughter was thinking of.
The bus stop isn't directly in front of the publishing house; it's about a three-minute walk away. She had been gone once, but it had been around four years ago. In four years, a lot has drastically changed.
The line of fortune trees that used to greet visitors at the main gate has been replaced by a regimented row of royal areca palms, standing tall and proud as if they were sentinels guarding a peaceful sky day and night. The path leading into the lobby, paved with dark stones, accentuates the smooth beauty of the meticulously cared-for green grass on both sides. Slender betel vines weave up the areca trunks, as sweet and intense as a fairytale romance.