Chapter 9
Evelyn Laurent was enveloped in Victoria Langley's tight embrace. The delicate scent of her mother's perfume lingered in the air. She felt dampness on her shoulder - Victoria's tears.
"My precious daughter, let's go home." Victoria released her, wiping away tears with a tender smile.
As the motorcade glided through bustling streets, Evelyn stared blankly out the window. Victoria kept holding her hand, chattering away despite receiving only occasional responses.
The gates of Beverly Hills slowly parted. Evelyn's pupils contracted slightly. Each mansion resembled a miniature palace, surrounded by breathtaking gardens.
"Welcome, Miss Evelyn!" Two rows of servants bowed in unison.
Evelyn froze, fingers unconsciously clutching her clothes. She remembered Vincent Lowell telling her that her biological parents were rural farmers.
Richard Langley noticed her confusion. "Yongning Village is our ancestral home," he murmured softly.
Evelyn suddenly recalled what she'd said to Ethan Sullivan. Her cheeks burned. He had been telling the truth all along.
The villa's interior surpassed her wildest imagination. When Victoria showed her the rooms, Evelyn nearly held her breath. Every space was meticulously designed, down to the unique curtain patterns.
"All this is yours." Victoria opened the walk-in closet door.
Evelyn stood transfixed. An entire floor of clothing, shoes and bags, organized by color scheme, glittered under the lights.
"We prepared new pieces every year," Victoria said, voice trembling. "Waiting for your return."
Under the warm shower spray, Evelyn felt like she was dreaming. The bathtub was larger than her former bed, with mirrors that never fogged.
Meanwhile, the living room downstairs was thick with tension.
"Have you confirmed everything?" Victoria's voice was icy.
Richard handed her a file, knuckles white. Her six brothers stood nearby, expressions dark and dangerous.
Victoria's hands shook as she reviewed the documents. When she read about "winter cold showers" and "sleeping in storage rooms," her nails dug into her palms.
"The Lowells of Seaview City..." She spoke through gritted teeth, murderous intent swirling in her eyes.
When Evelyn came downstairs dressed in fresh clothes, she sensed the frozen rage in the air. Instinctively, she halted, spine stiffening. This oppressive atmosphere was all too familiar - it always preceded Vincent's outbursts.
Were they... angry with her?