What's Mine Is Mine

ey's

ped her head inside, "It's 5 pm. Beauticians and

I just had the bloody car crash? I mean

oor and I mumbled, "Yes, yes. I'

y to the dressing room adjacent to my room. Tossing the covers away, I got out of b

n the shower. Standing under the cold stream

and needed was freedom of life. But Alas! that was the last thing I w

ords like, "Ashley, you are so full of ambition, passion, and creativity. I am sure you'll go a long

o just like my sister, Emma, did. But instead, I was rooted u

e mirror and came to a sudden halt. I wanted to vanish in thin air but I knew that would result in yet another disaster

sprawled all over the country. My father, Ambrose Frostford, started this company from the scratch and that's why it was his most prized asset

not allowed to go anywhere without security, boys were never in the picture, and fol

and even the correct way to walk. I was never allowed to have an opinion about what to wear, what hairstyl

e trained in things that looked better on my CV. And by CV, I didn't mean the one needed for

g, and other various sports. He thought it was important for me to learn how to read and write

nd. My sister, Emma Frosford, was five years older than me. We had a strong bond si

our sweet, courageous words into my ears, I fel

was getting ready so that my parents could present me as a reward for whoever would sign a business deal with my fathe

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Ms. Jane's croak, "Ms. Ashley, you

ing the bath rob, I opened the door and rolled my eyes at Ms. Jane standing just outside

me, "I don't think you would tr

e. But the truth was that Ms. Jane was as evil as Mother and that's why they always stuc

ring, I saw that ton of make-up was splayed over the vanity table and

. I peeked into the mirror and gasped at my reflection. I was looking absolutely beautiful, and I was not even exaggerating. Alice, my beautician,

ure of her work, she nodded toward Ms. Jane who then escorted her out of the room. Not a minute later, the sty

the dress Mother deemed suitable for the occasion and reentered the dressing room. The

hella gorgeous in a long red maxi with net sleeves and a pearl neckline. A single diamond pend

room and told me that all of the guests

t, everyone knew why Father arranged this match-making party so no one wanted to miss a ch

nd mothers with twinkling eyes like they had found some s

his father's business. Hence, it was a descriptive example of killing two birds with one stone. Father would get a nice

with others. Some of the men tried to start a conversation with me but other than one or two sentences, I didn't st

ade sure that every pair of eyes had witnessed my beauty. The more candidates, the better

r present at the party and I was sick to my core at being a showpiece, she

ed around in search of some quiet area in the midst of this chaos. I saw a man approaching me with careful strides and I imm

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