"Miss Grant, this way, please."
Evelyn Grant followed the servant through a series of archways and long corridors before entering a villa as grand and luxurious as a palace.
Her assistant, June Jacobs, looked around curiously. After twisting and turning through the maze-like villa for what felt like an eternity, the servant pushed open the arched double doors of a suite. "Miss, Miss Grant has arrived," she announced in Cantonese.
Evelyn Grant raised her eyes slightly.
Sunlight streamed brightly into the room through an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. The turquoise, glass-like sea was a picturesque scene, with several yachts floating on its surface, all framed by the windows. It was the best ocean view in all of Veridia.
Sophie Keaton smiled and nodded at her. Her every move exuded a languid ease born of wealth, tempered by etiquette and a good upbringing.
She walked over, shook Evelyn Grant's hand, and introduced her to a friend.
"This is Miss Grant, the makeup artist I hired."
But her friend's gaze was clearly filled with faint disdain. Stella Ford affectionately took Sophie Keaton's hand and, right in front of Evelyn Grant, said in Cantonese, "Don't you already have a makeup team? This is for your birthday party. What if she messes things up?"
As she spoke, she glanced at Evelyn Grant out of the corner of her eye. Evelyn was looking down, organizing the makeup supplies she had brought. She seemed completely oblivious, as if she didn't understand a word Stella Ford was saying. The lines of her profile were smooth and perfect, her long eyelashes like the wings of a butterfly—an exquisitely sculpted beauty.
And utterly composed.
Stella Ford pressed her lips together, growing more displeased.
The Ford Group she represented was a prominent name in Veridia, after all. Yet even she had to be deferential in the presence of the Keaton Family. And here was a mere makeup artist, acting so calm and unbothered.
Sophie Keaton frowned. The etiquette drilled into her since childhood made her uncomfortable with her friend's words. She replied in a low voice, also in Cantonese, "Don't say that. Miss Grant is very famous in The Midlands. She's incredibly talented and has millions of followers online. I really like her."
Just as she finished speaking, Evelyn Grant's gentle voice sounded. "Miss Keaton, shall we begin?"
It was afternoon in Veridia, and the sunlight shimmered on the surface of the sea.
June Jacobs stood nearby, ready to hand things to Evelyn Grant at a moment's notice. Melodious music played in the room. Stella Ford held her tongue for a long while before finally asking, as if it were a casual thought.
"Sophie, your brother didn't even come to your birthday last year. He'll definitely come for your eighteenth, right?"
Evelyn Grant took a small step back, lifting Sophie Keaton's chin with her index finger to carefully inspect the foundation.
A pleasant, light scent of gardenia wafted over.
Sophie Keaton found herself gazing into Evelyn's eyes, struck again by her beauty the closer she got. "I'm not sure," she said. "He's so busy. He was in Westmere for business just yesterday. I don't know if he can make it back in time."
Her tone shifted. Despite growing up in Veridia and Eldoria, her Mandarin was still perfect. Her voice held a note of admiration.
"Miss Grant, your skin is amazing."
Sophie Keaton had a generous and cheerful personality. She had been surrounded by friends since she was little and was happy to make new ones. "Can I call you Evelyn? And you can just call me Sophie."
Evelyn Grant smiled and nodded. "Of course. It would be my honor."
Behind them, Stella Ford's expression darkened. She took out her phone and searched for Evelyn Grant's name online.
She wasn't well-known in Veridia, but just as Sophie Keaton had said, she was huge in The Midlands. She had five million followers, was frequently invited to do makeup for celebrities, and had a schedule so packed you had to book her a month in advance.
Many of the celebrity looks she created had gone viral, which was why she was so sought-after.
The fans of those celebrities called her the god of makeup and styling in the entertainment industry.
Stella Ford was still dismissive.
'So what? In front of a top-tier wealthy family, even celebrities have to bow and scrape, desperate to curry favor.'
Stella Ford's words did, however, remind Sophie Keaton.
She picked up her phone and tapped on the screen. She didn't expect an instant reply, but about ten minutes later, her phone chimed.
After opening it, she saw the other person had sent a voice message.
"Home in two hours."
The refined, deep voice filled her ears. Even though it was just a few words, the aura was completely natural—impassive and steady, with an intimidating authority that could be felt even through the phone.
Listening in, Stella Ford's eyes filled with unconcealed delight.
She said enviously, "An eighteenth birthday coming-of-age gift... I wonder what your brother will get you."
Sophie Keaton thought for a moment, then shook her head lightly. "I have no idea. But my brother's mind is always on business. He probably won't get me anything too unusual."
The Keaton Family of Veridia had a legacy stretching back nearly two hundred years and sat on a fortune worth hundreds of billions. The Apex Consortium was an unshakable titan at the apex of the pyramid—unfathomable and immovable.
Sophie Keaton's brother—Preston Keaton, the head of the Keaton Family, chairman of the Apex Consortium, held the economic lifeblood of all of Veridia in his hands.
Evelyn Grant had once caught a glimpse of him from afar at a banquet she attended with her father.
Amid the crowd, he had appeared refined and gentlemanly, self-restrained and courteous. His every move exuded an extraordinary noble air. It was no wonder the media in The Midlands often described him as a true gentleman.
She reined in her thoughts, focusing all her attention on the work before her.
An hour and a half later, the makeup and hairstyle were complete.
Sophie Keaton had discussed the look with her beforehand, wanting something more cool and aloof. So, the overall color palette was light, the eye makeup was subtle, and the focus was on highlighting the three-dimensional contours of her face. The result was reserved and elegant, like a red plum blossom blooming proudly in the snow, cool and radiant.
Her long hair was gathered into a relaxed, low bun, with loose strands pulled out and lightly curled. Sophie Keaton had the kind of face shape that was perfectly framed by her hairline, making the hairstyle a flawless match.
It was her first time trying this style, and she felt like a whole new world had opened up to her. With a little "Wow!", she beamed and leaned closer to the mirror.
After taking selfies for a good while, absolutely adoring the look, Sophie Keaton pulled Evelyn Grant by the hand into the walk-in closet to pick out a gown for her.
Stella Ford followed behind them, her expression quite grim.
The sky began to darken.
The villa was ablaze with lights as guests began to arrive at Clearwater Bay one after another. The procession of rare luxury cars was endless.
In the distance, a motorcade slowly wound its way up the main road, exuding a reserved and steady presence in the twilight before coming to a smooth stop in front of the villa.
The guests in the ballroom seemed to sense something. The chatter died down abruptly, and with looks of slight apprehension, everyone craned their necks to look out toward the garden.
Sophie Keaton had to change into another outfit for a yacht party later, so she had arranged for Evelyn Grant and June Jacobs to have a place to stay in Clearwater Bay.
Taking advantage of the break, Evelyn snuck away to a corner of the garden. Just as she took out her phone to make a call, she suddenly heard a somewhat familiar voice speaking Cantonese not far away.
"Sophie's new makeup artist is a mainlander. Her skills are decent, but I don't like her. She has one of those inscrutable faces that hides everything. She's always mixed up in the entertainment industry, and you know how much I hate people involved with that scene."
Stella Ford held a glass of champagne, taking a small sip. "A bunch of nobodies with no power," she said leisurely to her friend, "always trying to claw their way into high society."