The sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling onto the luxurious European-style sofa, while the crystal chandelier above refracted rainbow-colored beams of light. Emma Smith, wearing a pure white silk nightgown, stood barefoot on the soft wool rug, holding a cup of freshly brewed black tea as she leaned against the window. Outside, a lush garden was in full bloom, with the fragrance of flowers carried in by the gentle breeze, adding a touch of vitality to the mansion.
"Emma, come downstairs for breakfast," came the clear call of her mother, Sophia Smith, from the kitchen. Emma responded with a nod, placed her teacup down, and quickly walked down the spiral staircase.
In the dining room, Sophia, dressed in a light blue dress, her hair styled in a loose bun, looked both elegant and casual. She was placing the final breakfast dish on the table—delicate French crepes adorned with fresh strawberries and cream.
"Good morning, Mom." Emma walked over and kissed her mother on the cheek. "Good morning, my dear," Sophia replied softly, returning the kiss before turning to look at the middle-aged man seated at the table.
That was Emma's father, William Brown. Dressed in a sharp suit, he was focused on reading the financial newspaper, his expression calm and absorbed. "William, stop reading the newspaper and try some of my breakfast," Sophia said gently. William looked up, giving a slight smile. "Of course, my dear. Your cooking is always the best."
Emma's grandfather had already seated himself at the table and looked at her with a playful smile. "You little rascal, today is your 18th birthday, and you still need your mother to call you before you'll get up." Emma cuddled up to her grandfather, playfully acting spoiled.
The family of four sat down together at the table, enjoying a moment of tranquility and warmth. Emma gazed at everything before her, her heart full of happiness. She had grown up in such an environment, with her father being a member of the Smith family by marriage, but the love between her parents was evident, and her grandfather, James Smith, was the head of the Smith family, one of the wealthiest families in B City. To Emma, life felt like a perfect dream.
After breakfast, Emma was getting ready to go out when she received a call from her fiancé, Noah Garcia. "Emma, I'm at your door. Today is your 18th birthday, and before the birthday party tonight, I want to spend the best day with you."
"Okay, I'll be right there," Emma said, hanging up the phone. She happily changed into a cream-colored dress and grabbed her bag before walking out. Noah stood beside a black luxury sedan, his eyes filled with affection as he saw Emma. "You look beautiful today," he said, opening the car door with an inviting gesture.
Just as they were enjoying their time out together, Emma's phone rang again. It was her grandfather James. "Emma, it's your 18th birthday party tonight. Don't be late! It's already afternoon, and I still don't see you. Has that Noah boy got you all to himself again?" James, usually composed and authoritative, was full of warmth and affection when it came to Emma.
"Grandfather, I won't be late. Don't worry," Emma replied, after giving him a little more attention before hanging up the phone.
As night fell, the Smith family mansion was brightly lit. The banquet hall was filled with guests, all prominent figures from B City. Emma, linking arms with her grandfather, weaved through the crowd, elegantly greeting each elder she passed.
However, amid the laughter and chatter of the party, a cold, piercing gaze suddenly landed on her from the crowd. Emma instinctively turned her head, but all she saw was her father, William, standing in the corner, speaking in hushed tones with Benjamin from the Williams family. She furrowed her brows but soon relaxed. Perhaps she was overthinking it. Little did Emma know, a sudden storm was about to strike, shattering all her happiness.