Chapter 87 - 85
After an hour, Yelena's incredulous scream echoed through the manor.
"My god! Oh. My. God! Are you kidding me? How did you do it?"
Yelena sat astride Natasha on the sofa in the manor hall, holding Natasha's charming face between her hands, moving closer and examining it intently, her eyes wide as if inspecting it with a magnifying glass.
She had just gone to sleep, and after waking up, she suddenly noticed the incredible changes in Natasha sitting on the sofa. It wasn't an exaggeration—Natasha had changed so much that Yelena could hardly believe her eyes.
Natasha's once delicate and charming face now seemed to have undergone some kind of precise plastic surgery. Her pores had disappeared, her skin was whiter, and everything looked far more refined.
The most striking detail was that Yelena clearly remembered the scars on Natasha's arms, exposed by her short vest, and the one on her face—both had vanished.
It seemed as if they had been magically repaired.
As the saying goes, "whiteness hides all flaws." Natasha's skin, as a Russian, was naturally pale, but it had never been as white as that of someone with truly porcelain skin. Now, however, her skin had become even more flawless, with her pores shrinking, making her appear more refined and beautiful. Even her overall aura seemed to have improved.
As a woman, how could Yelena not feel a surge of envy and jealousy? Her jealousy was about to spill over.
A fanatical Yelena grabbed Natasha's face and demanded urgently, her voice full of desperation. She too wanted to become more beautiful, more refined.
And it wasn't just her. Melina, standing beside them, also cast envious, eager glances in Natasha's direction.