Chapter 1: Home at Last

It was another blissful afternoon in the neighborhood and a car can be seen with heavily tinted windows navigating through the main gate as the entrance towards the hysteric and proud manor that stood fine in her mighty years—the renowned Marquez residence.

The tall and lean men dressed in their sharp slate black suits that are stationed to guard outside the entrance did not spare a single glance at the familiar and already registered car as it drove past them, and instead settled their eyes on the quiet and passive neighborhood whilst speaking to their comrades through their earpiece as they heavily monitored the placid movements of their surroundings, ready to strike into action if there was any threat approaching.

Hidden from the curious eyes of the neighborhood from the city's high and well-endowed socialites, inside the car, seating in the spacious backseat alone was a woman who is currently taking off her sunglasses, revealing the audible warmth hidden inside her stolid monolid eyes.

Her temperament against the dim light of the car was as pale but as elegant as the freshly bloomed white tulip flowers in the front garden they had passed.

She took off her mask and wipes off the heavy makeup applied on her face with the wet wipes that she took out from her purse, rubbing off the itchy and irritating colors and cream sticking against her face which masked her fair skin and her beauteously head-turner charm—preventing her from profiting a line of suitors at her feet.

She is who she always was.

The only woman who owned such piercing and fiery eyes paired with her delicate and angelic features, the sole heir of the fortunate Marquez Family, and the current CEO sitting at the peak of the Marquez Real Estate.

The 'woman' whom everyone loved to talk about but it's either to flatter her with endless praises or to tattle her with such resentful eyes.

Her eyes remained unfazed upon harboring such loathsome prejudices against her. Whichever side was awful than the last encounter she would face.

'Too arrogant.'

'Very unladylike.'

The one and only infamous Ivie Marquez.

Yes, that's her, and a small part of her world revolves around that wearying system of toxicity upon her so-called 'fortunate life.'

Ivie disposed of her mask and throw it discretely at the bin placed on the other side of the car after seeing some contents of her heavy makeup were glued against the mask's inner side.

She couldn't be more surprised that her face managed to survive and still be in good condition once again.

Her lips thinned in distaste.

Yes, this tiring system may work for others with their sanity still intact, but not her.

Though she couldn't care less about that, her weekly session at 'Vonte' had helped her skin breathe and healthily endure her method somehow, and she couldn't be more thankful that Vonte existed on earth.

At the very least, she was glad that she had now gained the free will to finally remove her disguised protection, just as her mother had insisted her to do, though she'll probably have to take a warm bath to thoroughly clean herself. She sighs, disheartened.

She had reexamined all the proposals from the other companies laid on her desk this morning and as well completed the other errands she had to do.

In moments like this is where her skin can only breathe with ease—where she could finally be at peace.

"How was your day, Lee?" She questions her quiet chauffeur who's wordlessly doing his job well in the driver's seat.

Lee nods at her and gave her a small polite smile when their eyes briefly met in the car's rearview mirror.

"Excellent and well, young miss."

She turns her attention to the window at her side, overlooking the dull property from her seat.

The rest of the short ride was smooth and her chauffeur had driven the car at a slightly slower pace the moment they drove past the circular fountain with golden swan statues by its tip, displayed magnificently in the front terrain of the manor.

Lee breathes out and takes a few secretive glances from the rear-view mirror on his upper right to continue monitoring their young miss personally as he argues with himself inside his head about whether to inform the headmaster that her daughter had once again skipped lunch for the third time this week.

Worry and disdain emerge from his coal-black eyes.

He was more distressed when he foretold the event would take place again when the young miss's secretary had notified him that she neither left the building with an ounce of rest nor had eaten her meal by lunch.

And no one was more devastated to hear the news first other than him—the repetitive news of the young miss's employees' preconceptions about her status as a single woman of her age or her rumored diseased face that she must have covered up behind her mask and heavy cosmetics.

Everyone only knew her for having a bad reputation. He shakes his head.

No, they were blinded by envy.

It was what everyone can only do as they please upon helplessly watching their young miss climb higher to the upper-class society.

It was a long and tiring ride for Ivie to even spare further formalities with her chauffeur that she usually does.

When they arrived at the entrance, Lee left his place in haste and walks around the car to open the door from her side for her to step out, he bowed to her once again when he sees her.

Upon the sign of her arrival, numbered men and women in similar dressing rushed out and stand in a straight line from the entrance door as they regard her with respect with a prolonged bow, finally welcoming their heiress home.

They were her loyal servants who were there to witness her everyday life. There are a few new faces for her to freshly breathe in and there are some who were present when she was still a kin.

They were the only people who truly admired her warmness that was hidden by her cold upbringing. How can they not?

To them, she was their saintess . . . their savior.

One slim and slender leg came out next to another. Ivie lifts herself and got off the car with her private chauffeur closing the door behind her.

From where she stands, her keen eyes caught a small figure by the window on the third floor. Unbeknownst that someone was peeking and watching her, waiting and expecting for her arrival.

In a blink of an eye, the figure dispersed leaving the red curtains slightly swaying.

The corners of her lips rose as she looked away and walked towards the main door.

When she sees Butler Yang waiting for her at the end of the lined servants, she grins at him, and her genuine smile warms the hearts of the onlookers. Specifically, the guards in the shadows, who are just about to retreat to their post as the mission of returning the heiress home was another safe and successful journey.

"How's he?" She formally asks.

Her smile was as warm as the summer breeze in the west and the old butler, whose loyalty towards the family was stronger than the bond between his own wife and children, smiled back at her, showing the fine wrinkles on his face before bowing once again.

He knew clearly who she meant.

"He had refused to attend his homeroom lessons early this morning . . . but he's eating well. Not to mention energetic, too," he replied, deliberately shaking his head.

Butler Yang's devastating words were directed to the one and only wildly uncontrollable entity present in the house and after an adamant amount of time, he offers her his hands to fetch her bag and coat, which he passed on to the other servants who already knew where to place such belongings.

Ivie's grin widens after hearing how flat-edge the butler's voice was.

Right there, she knew he wasn't lying but partially not telling her the truth because of the lack of details, and knowing Butler Yang who is heavily devoted to the youngest master in the house, she knew he was protecting the spoiled young boy for an afternoon nagging from her.

She had a strong feeling from the start that there was something wrong when she didn't spot the large porcelain vase of her mother in the living room and the missing pieces of her father's favorite Zeitou teacup collection.

It seems that the little devil had once again troubled the whole manor with his unstoppable frenzy.

The butler froze from his place with both uneasy sweaty feet and cold hands. He was anxious and she was able to see that evidently through his antsy eyes.

The troubled butler immediately tried changing the subject without being too obvious, unaware that he was already caught in the tiger's den.

"The Master and the Madam have left a note directed to you, young miss. Their presence is needed in the burial of the late general as well as attending a few banquets, thus they will not be home for two months."

The butler spoke what he was told to deliver and his heart put to rest upon the idea that their beloved heiress will not be scolded once again for skipping meals.

The edge of the bandage hidden under her collar hasn't escaped his calculative eyes that caused a mournful frown to etch on his lips.

"They might as well make it a year or two," the spoiled heiress fearlessly mumbled, but not a single servant who heard her dared to speak or protest as they share the same loyalty to every member of the clan.

She hastily strides towards the long white couch in the main living room and sat there carelessly, relaxed from the absence of her monitoring parents.

The servants instantly handed her a pair of comfy slippers before retrieving back their bodies towards the corner, standing on the sidelines and awaiting her next command as they usually do.

"Call that mischievous boy here," she commands, taking off her heels.

Her eyes flash with authority towards butler yang whom she caught the slightest flinch from his composed shoulders after hearing her words.

What have you done this time, kiddo?