Twenty-first floor, R&D and Public Relations departments.
Arabella Vanderbilt shrugged off her trench coat upon exiting the elevator, draping it over her arm.
Her attire was rigid, but nonetheless exquisite.
A black professional suit clung to her slender figure, a fitted blazer accentuating her lithe waist while the ironed black trousers made her legs appear exceptionally straight and long.
Her facial features were flawless, her black hair was neatly tied up, and her expression bore the usual cool detachment, coupled with a simple and sleek outfit.
Arabella was undeniably beautiful.
But even beauty could lead to aesthetic fatigue.
Always the same hairstyle, always the same few designs of clothes.
Over the years, she had never changed this particular style of dress.
No matter how beautiful a woman is, if she does not take the time to dress up.
Regarding work as everything, rigid and dull, everyone naturally lost interest in her.
