"Miss Iris, this is the land you asked for, and here's one million from the Sherwood Family. If there are no issues, go ahead and sign." An arrogant, cold voice cut through the air.
In the luxurious private room, the butler stood beside Old Mr. Sherwood. He placed a land transfer agreement and a bank card on the table, an inexplicable dislike growing as he watched the girl's nonchalant expression.
'Poor people are all the same,' he thought. 'They'll do anything to climb the social ladder the second they get a chance.'
'She's taking the benefits but still putting on airs. She's clearly a schemer, and that greedy look on her face is just despicable.'
Old Mr. Sherwood squinted, rolling a pair of jade balls in his hand. A shrewd, calculating glint was hidden in his eyes.
Simon Sherwood and Leona Vaughn were impeccably dressed, their attire exquisite and opulent. They remained silent, their eyes fixed on the girl.
The eldest young master, Tristan Sherwood, wore a grim expression. A cloud of gloom hung over his handsome features, and he glared at the girl as if trying to burn a hole through her with his gaze.
The butler cleared his throat and continued, "You should know your place. You're a helpless orphan. The Sherwood Family is willing to take you in. Even if it's just to be a stand-in for the eldest daughter, it's a blessing you couldn't have hoped for in ten lifetimes."
"The Sherwood Family's eldest daughter is the top socialite in all of Stellan, and the second daughter is a superstar. And then there's you... tsk, tsk..."
The implication was clear: she didn't even come close.
The girl finished half a plate of spicy chicken, took a sharp breath, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and then looked up.
Everyone stared at her face.
Hers was an exquisitely beautiful face. Her skin was fair, her nose had a high bridge, and her bright eyes were strikingly clear. The corners of her eyes tilted up slightly, giving her a touch of soft, bewitching charm. She was stunning.
Tristan Sherwood sized her up, the irritation in his heart intensifying.
'That face looked too much like one of the Sherwoods. If he didn't know the Sherwood Family had paid for a stand-in, he would have sworn the girl before him was his own sister!'
Old Mr. Sherwood's brow furrowed, his expression unreadable as he looked at the girl.
He nudged the bank card across the table, his gaze softening into a benevolent one. "Iris, the Sherwood Family won't mistreat you. We will treat you the same as our other children. Your two older sisters are exceptional. You should go to school as well and get into a respectable university. A daughter of the Sherwood Family cannot be uncultured..."
'The truth—that we'd paid for a stand-in—would sound terrible if it ever got out.'
'After all, the Sherwood Family was a prestigious one; they had a reputation to maintain.'
'So, their official story was that they had found their biological daughter, who had been lost for eighteen years. She was the family's legitimate third daughter.'
'They would make up for the eighteen years of loss and dote on her endlessly.'
'That way, no one would suspect a thing.'
Old Mr. Sherwood studied the girl's face, growing more satisfied by the second.
Her delicate face was striking, her features exquisite. Her eyes, glistening as if veiled in mist, were exceptionally endearing and pitiable.
'She really does look like a Sherwood.'
'The middleman was reliable. Those tens of millions weren't wasted.'
The girl looked up, her gaze sweeping across each of their faces. A glint shone in her beautiful eyes, a mix of delicate charm and rebellious spirit blending in her expression, giving off a bewitching aura.
She silently scanned the agreement, her long, fair fingers toying with a strand of her hair. "Once I sign this, I'm a daughter of the Sherwood Family. You sure you won't regret it?"
She paused, her tone turning intrigued. "Everything I do from now on will be in the Sherwood Family's name."
Tristan Sherwood started to speak but was silenced by a look from Old Mr. Sherwood, who stated firmly, "The Sherwood Family always keeps its word."
The girl met his gaze for a moment before picking up the pen and signing the agreement.
Her strokes were sharp and forceful.
She signed her name: Iris Dalton.
A flicker of relief crossed Old Mr. Sherwood's face. The Sherwoods exchanged a look, both sighing in relief. The great weight on their minds had finally been lifted.
"Oh, right. I'm still young, so my living environment must be comfortable. I can't be made to feel wronged in any aspect of my life—food, clothing, shelter, you name it."
Iris Dalton took another napkin and dabbed carefully at her mouth.
She had just eaten something spicy, and her lips were a rosy red, as if coated in a brilliant glaze. "Also, about that fiancé you're setting me up with... even if he's just temporary, he has to be hot. I don't do ugly guys."
The girl's voice was soft and melodious, a pleasure to hear.
But her words grated on the ears, leaving The Sherwoods with a sour taste in their mouths.
They didn't know what to make of her rebellious yet composed demeanor.
'This girl really doesn't know her place.'
'Oh, well. We'll just have to teach her some discipline later on.'
Old Mr. Sherwood, however, remained calm and composed, his expression unaffected. His tense features relaxed considerably as he turned and nodded at Simon Sherwood to speak.
Simon Sherwood was in his fifties but was very well-preserved. His hair was impeccably combed, and his crisp suit gave him a refined, handsome air. He looked as if he were only in his early forties.
He adjusted his expression, forcing a calm and gentle tone. "Iris, the Sherwood Family has very high standards for its children. I'm on the board of trustees at Lumin-Umbra High School, and I've already made arrangements. When the semester begins, you'll be enrolled in the senior advanced class."
"We'll also hire a private tutor for you to teach you proper etiquette, and your brother can take you to high-end functions so you can get some exposure. In short, you are to become a well-mannered young lady. Don't embarrass the Sherwood Family."
Simon Sherwood's voice was gentle and deep, his gaze holding a trace of sincerity. He sounded just like a loving father giving earnest advice.
'Even if it was an act, it had to be a convincing one. No outsider could be allowed to see through the facade.'
'They only needed to keep this up for two years. When the time came, the girl would die in the Sherwood Family's place, and the family's crisis would be completely resolved.'
"That's right. From today on, I'm your mother. If you need anything, just tell me," Mrs. Sherwood, Leona Vaughn, said with a smile.
Leona Vaughn came from a good family, making her a perfect match for Simon Sherwood in terms of social standing.
After many years as the lady of a prestigious house, she had come to rely on her husband and children. She had little opinion of her own, deferring to her husband's arrangements in all matters.
But she doted on her own children and was repulsed by this outsider. The fact that Iris Dalton's features somewhat resembled her own stirred up a complex, suffocating feeling within her.
'She would have been delighted if her own daughter resembled her.'
'But for a stranger to resemble her—and to be even more stunning than she had been in her youth—was simply repulsive.'
However, Leona Vaughn had long since mastered the art of maintaining a flawless facade. Her expression was gentle, her bearing that of a well-bred lady, and the look she gave Iris Dalton was full of soft affection.
As if she were looking at her own daughter.
*
After signing the agreement, Iris Dalton stood up, excused herself, and headed to the restroom.
Two bodyguards in black stood guard outside, their menacing aura deterring anyone from approaching the private room.
When they saw Iris Dalton emerge, the bodyguards' eyes lit up. They nodded respectfully. "Third Miss!"
'The Sherwood Family had found their third daughter, and they were treating her with great importance—even more so than the eldest daughter.'
'And her looks were truly outstanding, even a cut above the eldest daughter's.'
'From now on, the third daughter was sure to be the family's favorite!'
'They'd better make a good impression.'
Iris Dalton gave a slight nod and turned, walking through the restaurant's main lobby.
The sun was dazzlingly bright. Beams of light slanted through the glass, casting soft, dappled patterns on her. Her slender figure and waist-length hair were edged in the sunlight, gilded in a shimmering, golden halo.
A young man in a pink shirt was sitting on a lobby sofa. His charming, almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the girl pass by.
He couldn't resist letting out a low whistle.
"'Like a lotus blossom rising from the water—a beauty that could topple kingdoms.' The man grinned, speaking into his phone. 'Taking care of Iris, huh? I'm actually looking forward to it.'"
The bespoke silk shirt, the million-dollar watch on his wrist, and his lazy yet flamboyant smile all spoke to his distinguished and noble status.
But beneath that nobility lay a hint of wildness and a devil-may-care attitude.
There was also an undercurrent of sharp, undisguised aggression.
*
Iris Dalton was thirsty after all that spicy chicken. She went to a vending machine, bought a bottle of iced fruit juice, and took a long drink to cool the burn.
The lunch rush was over, and the luxurious restaurant was now quiet and empty.
She found an empty room, took out her phone, and dialed a number.
"Ryan, it's done. The thing with the Sherwoods is settled. I even got a million in pocket money," she said, her voice bright and excited.
There was no hint of anything amiss in her tone.
'Actually... she was fishing for praise.'
"I got the land. I can start planting the medicinal herbs soon." When the other end remained silent, she pursed her lips and continued speaking.
'The herbs could be used to make the antidote for Tiana. And Ryan, and Aaron... they all needed my medicine...'
'And I'm the absolute best at growing them!'
'He should praise me for that, right?'
The person on the other end was still silent, but his breathing grew strained, as if laced with restraint and heartache.
Seconds ticked by.
"Ryan? Are you there?" The girl looked down, her long lashes trembling. Her fair fingers, wrapped around the juice bottle, slowly tightened their grip.
'A pang of disappointment and hurt pricked at her.'
'Holding his phone, he could picture the girl perfectly.'
'She would be in a simple white T-shirt and jeans, her arms slender and delicate. Standing all alone in that empty room, with her head bowed, she would look so fragile and helpless.'
After a long pause, a thoughtful hum came through the phone, followed by a clear, magnetic voice. "I'm worried about you being with the Sherwoods. I've already sent someone to Stellan to look after you. I want you to be happy, okay? Don't let them push you around... You're the best. You're the most amazing girl in the whole world!"