Oscar winning actress

Cherry looked every bit the country bumpkin: her faded dress hung awkwardly on her petite frame, and her shy, almost fragile demeanor seemed to be her only armor. Her face, pale as moonlight yet rough from years under the village sun, held a raw purity. She was shorter than Ivy, her long lashes casting delicate shadows over eyes so innocent they seemed to tremble. Her rosebud lips completed the illusion of a fragile porcelain doll.

"Ivy dear, introduce Cherry to your friends later, hmm? She shouldn't feel left out," Mrs. Lennox urged softly, her gaze lingering on Cherry, who stood there like a startled fawn, head bowed and bangs veiling her eyes — as though shielding her true thoughts.

"Don't worry, Mom. I'll try," Ivy replied curtly. She wasn't interested in playing the doting cousin; she had more pressing doubts swirling in her mind. Was Cherry truly as naive as she seemed? Or was she an expert actress, skillfully weaving innocence into a weapon strong enough to seduce any man?

"Hello, cousin Ivy. It's so nice to finally meet you. Aunt and Uncle always spoke so fondly of you. I hope I won't be a bother while I'm here," Cherry greeted, her voice sweet as honey yet sending a cold shiver down Ivy's spine.

"There's no need for such formality," Ivy snapped, tossing her hair dismissively. "Mom, Dad, can we eat now? I'm starving."

Mr. and Mrs. Lennox exchanged indulgent smiles, instantly doting on Ivy as if they'd completely forgotten Cherry even existed.

As they moved toward the dining room, lively chatter filling the air, Cherry hesitated in the living room, a lost shadow amidst the warmth. Her fingers fidgeted with her dress hem; she looked like a child punished for an unknown crime.

Ivy glanced back and sighed. "Hey, are you going to stand there all night? Come eat with us," she called, her voice tinged with reluctant kindness.

Despite viewing Cherry as an intruder — possibly even a cunning schemer — Ivy didn't want to outright exclude her. After all, Cherry shared their blood, and to Ivy, that was a bond she couldn't completely ignore.

Cherry shuffled forward and took a timid seat at the edge of the table.

"Cherry dear, I'm so sorry we left you behind," Arya cooed, her motherly instinct taking over. "Ivy just got home after so long, and we got carried away. Please, let us know if you need anything at all."

Cherry lowered her lashes demurely, her voice a trembling whisper. "I understand, Aunt. I just... suddenly missed my parents when I saw you and Uncle together."

Henry Lennox's stern expression softened. "We're your family now," he said, his voice warm and fatherly. "See us as your parents. You'll always have a home here."

Ivy was used to her father's generosity — he often claimed every young girl as a daughter — but this time, her fork paused halfway to her lips when she heard Cherry's next words.

"Then... can I call you Mom and Dad?" Cherry's question sounded as innocent as a child asking for a candy, yet each syllable struck Ivy like an arrow.

A heavy silence fell. Arya and Henry exchanged glances, stunned.

"Even though we care for you as our own, calling us Mom and Dad might be... a bit much," Arya managed after a moment, her voice careful.

Cherry's cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. "I... I'm so sorry. The words just slipped out because I miss my parents so much. Please forgive me," she murmured, her eyes glistening with what seemed to be genuine tears.

Arya and Henry quickly reassured her, their hearts melting at her fragile vulnerability.

The air slowly eased, and conversation turned to Ivy's return and business matters.

"Dad, what about Big Brother? Is he still refusing to come back?" Ivy asked suddenly, her gaze sharpening on her father.

Henry let out a weary sigh, a man crushed under years of silent frustration. "That stubborn boy... He refuses to return. Besides you, only he is capable of taking over the company. Your second brother already has his own career, and I don't want to force him. Ivy, you're the only one he listens to. You must talk to him — convince him to come home and take responsibility. Otherwise, it will fall on your shoulders."

Ivy's expression darkened. She knew too well why her brother had chosen to vanish: for a woman, to live a simple life as a delivery man, to protect her dignity so that she does not feel inferior to him.

"Honey, he won't even bring his girlfriend home to meet us," Arya lamented, her voice tinged with heartbreak. "We don't know if she loves him or his money... I worry he's eating poorly, struggling... We raised him with so much love only for him to disappear like this."

Ivy's jaw tightened. She tapped her nails against the table, deep in thought, before finally looking up with cold determination.

"I'll handle it," she declared. "I'll find him. I'll see if this 'sister-in-law' is truly worthy. And I'll bring them both home if she is really worthy."