Chapter 33: Ex..
Eyes finally moved to where Ariana stood. She inhaled slowly before walking to the dining table. Just as she reached it, she curtsied politely to her father—and to her surprise, he nodded with a smile. She sat down quietly. Ava’s gaze was fixed on her, eyes wide with disbelief.
It seemed Ariana had changed—deeply. Was it the gown? The way her hair was styled? No, it was something more. Her aura. She looked like someone born into luxury, born noble—even though she wasn’t even trying.
"Sweetheart, would you like some extra chicken?" Mr. John spoke.
Ava almost gagged as the foul stench of his breath mixed with the food he had eaten wafted over to her. She forced a fake smile and shook her head, her body tingling with shame. At this point, she didn’t even know how to look her sister in the eye after all her boasting.
Not to mention how disgustingly clingy this man was.
"Ariana, you look stunning. I must say—your husband is treating you well," Mr. Brentford said with a pleased smile, shocked himself at how Ariana carried herself.
Ariana knew too well why her father was acting this way. She returned the smile, catching both her sister and father off guard. Slowly, she raised her hand and signed:
"He really treats me well. What a responsible husband of mine, don’t you think?"
"V-Very true, my dear daughter," her father stuttered, clearly not expecting her to reply. It seemed she had changed. Just how many days had she been here, and already it felt like he couldn’t recognize her. The once calm daughter was nowhere to be seen—this was someone else, someone with quiet determination.
"Your daughter is very pretty, I must say. In fact, she looks like a goddess herself. No wonder Alpha Zavren is fond of her, as the rumors say," said Mr. John, the brown-haired man, as he picked up a piece of fish.
Ava’s face twisted in barely contained anger. Why did her sister always have to take everything from her? Why did it always have to be Ariana, Ariana, Ariana?