Florence glanced at her father with a smile on her face, her features carefully arranged into an expression of sweet vulnerability. She looked up at him with wide, watery eyes, her voice trembling with feigned helplessness.
"Father…" she murmured, clinging to his arm. "I so desperately want the lead role in Director David Morgan's new movie… but I just can't seem to secure it. Please, won't you help me? Just this once?"
Mr. Harrison looked at her coldly, his gaze piercing right through her act.
"If you are truly worthy of it," he said sternly, "then you should have the talent and ability to win it with your own hands. Do not expect me to pave the way for you."
Florence stood frozen, her smile vanishing instantly. She had only wanted to gain his favor and attention, but instead, she was met with cold rejection. Fury burned deep within her chest, though she dared not show it on her face.
"Of course I know I can get it!" Florence retorted quickly, trying to sound confident. "I have the talent, and I am fully capable! I just… I just want you to help me secure it. You know I have so many rivals."
Realizing her tone was too sharp, she immediately softened her voice, trying to smooth over the awkward atmosphere.
"Oh, Dad!" she chirped, flashing a bright smile. "Have you watched my latest movie? I poured my whole heart into it! I truly believe my performance was absolutely perfect!"
"Are you sure of it?"
"Of course I am certain! I am fully expecting to win the award for Best Supporting Actress for that role—I know it in my bones!" Florence declared proudly, tossing her hair. "But… I do not wish to remain just a supporting actress! I want to reach the very top! I want the spotlight to shine solely on me! I want my name to be known by everyone, to be the true star of this family!"
Madam Mary immediately patted her hand, smiling indulgently. "Do not worry, my darling daughter. Of course you will get what you want. We are born to possess glory and greatness. It is your destiny!"
Mr. Harrison looked at his daughter with a measured gaze. "So, if you truly possess the talent and ability you claim, then there is no need to rush. Everything will come in due time. I only hope you achieve all that your heart desires."
He offered her a faint smile, then rose gracefully from his seat at the table.
"Oh, Isabella," he called out gently. "I shall be taking my leave now. See you around."
"Okay, Dad. Goodnight," Isabella replied softly, bowing respectfully. Madam Mary and Florence also bid their farewells, and Isabella quietly excused herself, leaving the dining hall early to return to her solitude.
"Oh, Isabella, wait!" Madam Mary called out, her voice sweet and inviting. "I do hope you are planning to come to the grand party tomorrow night. It will be an evening filled with splendor and merriment. You shall have the chance to meet many distinguished guests and perhaps make some friends."
"I know, I will be there," Isabella replied calmly. "I am coming along."
She spoke softly, her figure drifting gracefully away as she walked steadily toward her room.
Upon reaching her room, Isabella did not seek sleep. Instead, she stepped out onto the balcony, where the cool night air greeted her. She sat before her easel, arranging her brushes and paints, her soul yearning to pour her emotions onto the canvas.
As her fingers took hold of the brush, it moved with a life of its own, dancing gracefully across the board, flowing with a rhythm she could not control. Before she knew it, the image of a man emerged—sharp, commanding features, eyes that held both power and mystery. It was Raymond, looking devastatingly handsome.
She gasped, dropping her brush slightly. "What! Why him?" she whispered to the night. "Why am I still thinking about him?"
Suddenly, memories flooded her mind...
FLASHBACK
Her father's voice echoed softly, "Isabella… Isabella. You are now of age, my child. Tell me… do you have anyone special in your heart? Or would you object if I were to introduce you to someone suitable?"
FLASHBACK ENDS
"Ahh!" A deep crimson blush rushed to her cheeks, spreading across her face like fire. She quickly touched her warm skin, her heart beating wildly against her ribs.
"No, no, no! Not at all!" she stammered, frantically fanning herself with her hands to cool down, trying desperately to chase away the thoughts that made her heart flutter so foolishly.
"He is nothing special to me!" she insisted to herself, shaking her head rapidly. "We have only met once! He merely extended a hand to help me out of pure kindness… that is all there is to it!
She whispered these words to convince her own heart, then carefully set down her brushes and closed her art supplies. With a final glance at the portrait that seemed to stare back at her, she turned away, ready to surrender to the embrace of sleep.
She said that as she put down her things, ready to go to sleep.