Chapter 345
Mrs. Winston looked particularly regal and untouchable today in her deep purple gown.
"Auntie, you look at least ten years younger in that dress," Emily complimented sincerely.
Everyone likes to be told they look younger, especially women of a certain age. Mrs. Winston's lips curled into a smile. "You look beautiful today as well, with the grace of a lady from a distinguished family."
As they spoke, the door to the lounge swung open, and several of Winston's relatives entered, chatting amiably. "How do you manage to look younger and more vibrant as the years pass? I'm three years your junior, and next to you, I look ten years older."
Mrs. Winston's smile deepened. "Alright, you flatter me too much. The party hasn't even started—why don't you all take a seat in the lounge for a while?"
While the makeup artist was still styling Mrs. Winston's hair, several relatives of the Winston family sat nearby, making conversation. In the midst of their small talk, the ladies' gazes occasionally and subtly shifted towards Emily, sizing her up and probing—as if trying to guess her identity.
Emily wasn't sure if these relatives were aware of Keith and Owen's existence, and she didn't dare initiate conversation rashly. She sat properly, holding her teacup, and interjected a few words from time to time.
"Ivan has really been something else these past years," sighed a lady from a distant branch of the Winston family. "Since he took over the Winston Group, it's been thriving. The more accomplished he becomes, the more it shows up our good-for-nothing. Big sister, do you think you could ask Ivan to find a position for our boy in the company? As the old saying goes, 'Brothers united can cut through metal,' and if our kid has any talent, it's his loyalty. He'd definitely be able to help Ivan solve a lot of big problems at the company!"
No sooner had the woman finished speaking than a snicker was heard from the side.
This was another lady, a tad closer to the Winston family's direct line. She took a sip of tea and remarked, "Ivan and your son… what kind of brotherhood is that? It's so convoluted, no one can even tell how many generations apart they are."
"If Ivan's brother were still around, then sure, there'd be no place for our Darwin," she added. "But, since that incident with Martin..."
Before she could finish, a cold look from Mrs. Winston swept over them.
Realizing her blunder, the woman was so frightened that she hurriedly swallowed her next words and desperately tried to make herself less conspicuous, clutching her teacup.
Emily, however, paused for a moment.
The name Martin Winston sounded familiar—she had previously assumed he was some distant relative of the Winston family...
Could it be that Martin Winston was Ivan's biological brother?
Wasn't Ivan the sole heir to the Winston family? What exactly was the story with Martin Winston?
Emily glanced at Mrs. Winston and saw that her usually beaming face had turned frosty, her eyes as cold as ice.
Clearly, Martin Winston was a taboo topic for Mrs. Winston.
Emily lowered her eyes, smiled, and said, "Your hair looks so lively when it's up, Auntie. You look as if you're not even forty."
Her comment broke the chilly silence of the lounge.
The surrounding ladies joined in with compliments: "Big sister, you look so stunning today. Standing beside you, we might as well be maids."
Looking down from the balcony, it seemed a considerable number of guests had arrived. "Mrs. Winston, let's head downstairs together," said a voice, dissipating the previously chilly atmosphere. Mrs. Winston's demeanor relaxed as she stood up to join the group heading downstairs.
Emily stood close to Mrs. Winston, carefully supporting her arm and occasionally engaging in amiable conversation. This sparked speculation in the hearts of several ladies from the Winston family, though none dared to confirm their suspicions. After all, they had never seen this young lady before, nor had they seen her at any socialite gatherings. It seemed unlikely that a lady of modest background could become the next Mrs. Winston...
As the procession made its way downstairs, Ivan came to greet them.
He was dressed in a silvery-gray suit, the epitome of nobility as if he had stepped right out of a fairy tale.
Emily couldn't help but gaze at him, her eyes filled with infatuation.
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