𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒. 𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈. 𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓈.
Isabella Leighton, a 23-year-old aspiring lawyer, unexpectedly lands a job working for the most prominent CEO in New York. While she doesn't align with his lifestyle, the generous sa...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
ISABELLA
My mother stood behind me, her hands softly placed on my shoulders as we gazed into each other's eyes through the reflection in my mirror.
"Wow," my sister appeared in the doorway, her gaze sweeping over the elegant gown I had on. "You look... stunning," she murmured, and I felt deeply touched by her compliment, especially since she wasn't typically expressive with her affection.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Both of their dresses outshone the one I wore. My mother's gown was a graceful peach hue adorned with delicate flowers and strings of pearls cascading elegantly down the skirt. My sister's dress resembled a true ball gown, with a voluminous, fluffy skirt and a meticulously hand-stitched red corset.
I wasn't really one for parties or dressing up, but I understood that attending the ball with my family meant a lot to my mother, especially since we hadn't spent much time together lately.
I smoothed my curls one more time before slipping into the white high heels Sofia had brought into the room, carefully adjusting them as I rose to my feet.
"You both look beautiful," I complimented, briefly checking my shoes once more before tucking my cellphone into the petite clutch purse.
Seeing my mothers bright smile made enduring this uncomfortable dress and heels entirely worthwhile. I was willing to do anything to make her happy, especially since my father seemed incapable of bringing her joy or caring about anyone but himself.
I realized that avoiding Asher tonight would be nearly impossible, given that his mother was hosting the event, but I was determined to do whatever to keep my distance.
"How long are we expected to stay?" I asked while my sister touched up her makeup. Recognizing my mother's somewhat annoyed expression, I added, "I just meant I'm not particularly excited about spending hours in a room with all of his family."
With a genuine expression, she moved in front of me and enveloped me in her arms. "I'm sorry, mija," she whispered into my hair, placing a tender kiss on my forehead before releasing me.
