It was already past two in the afternoon when Evelyn stepped out of her room, dressed in what anyone would call a simple outfit—but somehow, on her, it looked like poetry. A short violin-palette skirt hugged her gently, showing off her long, delicate legs. A cropped shirt clung lightly to her frame, stopping just above her waist. She'd added only a touch of makeup, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, and on her feet, plain white sneakers.
She looked effortlessly radiant.
Even the maids, in the middle of their chores, paused mid-swipe to stare. It wasn't the clothes—it was her. How could someone look that beautiful doing absolutely nothing special?
She walked up to Ezra, the old butler standing near the garden arch, clipboard in hand. "Grandpa," she said sweetly, "I'm heading into the city."
"To do what, young miss?" he asked, raising a brow.
"I want to cook Carlos something special. He didn't get to eat anything this morning."
"But we have everything you need in the kitchen," the butler replied.
"I need a special ingredient," she said with a soft smile. "Just for him."
Ezra hesitated. "The day's nearly over. You could wait until tomorrow."
Evelyn pouted, folding her arms, but said nothing. Then, pretending to talk to herself—but loud enough for Ezra to hear—she murmured, "He didn't even get to eat a proper meal today… If I go now, I'll be back before he arrives."
The butler sighed. He knew that tone. Knew that sparkle in her eyes too well. She wasn't going to back down.
"I'll let you go," he said at last, "but on one condition."
Her eyes lit up and she practically skipped toward him. "Anything!"
"You'll let them follow you," he replied, motioning toward the five bodyguards standing near the door.
Her expression dropped like rain from a clear sky. "What am I, a prisoner now?" she scoffed, folding her arms again.
"I'll report you to Carlos," She added and she turned dramatically to walk away, her ponytail swaying behind her like a proud banner. Ezra sighed deeply, rubbing his temple.
"Fine, fine! At least let the driver take you to the city" he called after her.
Evelyn stopped mid-step. A smug little smile formed on her lips. She turned slightly, not fully, just enough for him to see her face—no more grin, just a quiet wink.
And then she walked away like she owned the world.
Ezra stood there, speechless. He shook his head slowly, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.
These two will be the end of me, he thought. Like husband, like wife. No doubt about it—they were made for each other.