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.
