Sir Ares, Goodnight

Chapter 311

Swallow City, at the Severe family's courtyard.

The architecture style had the courtyard houses closely overlap one another. The ancient tree reached high to the sky as vines climbed on the black railings inlaid with iron and stone. The bougainvillea flowering season was at its most exuberant, and as far as eyes could see, the ribbons of red flowers were winding away.

Other than the bougainvillea flower belts, the courtyard was filled with the autumn breeze. The fallen leaves were withered, and the fallen yellow leaves on the ground exuded a decadent atmosphere.

The Severe family was once infinitely beautiful-dust like the scenery in this courtyard. From their oh- so colorful state into plain bleakness, the sight of it would render one to sigh.

Outside the heavy vermilion gate stood a delicate and dashing youngster. She had almond-shaped eyes and wheat-colored skin tone. There was a mole on the corner of her lip, and she had a beautiful straight nose.

The person was none other than Rose Foyle, who had disappeared from Imperial Capital.

She had already cut off her long, delicate waist-length hair and was now rocking a new pixie cut. When coupled with her exquisite and superb makeup skills,

she had transformed from the fresh and pure beautiful woman into a neat and dashing youth.

Rose pressed on the copper ring bell for quite some time before she heard footsteps coming from inside. George Severe's mistress, Anne Connors, opened the door for her.

Anne was as poised and sumptuous as she was before. She was wearing designer clothes, gold earrings, and had a few thick, heavy gold bracelets on her wrists.

When she saw the handsome youth standing by the door of her house, Anne's eyes flashed with doubt." Who are you?"

"Madam Connors, is Mr. Severe at home?"

Anne turned her head to glance at the house compound and nodded.

Rose continued, "Could you please let him know that I came from Imperial Capital, Madam? And that I have a n urgent matter to tell him." 1

Madam Connors replied, "Come on in."

Rose stepped in and walked inside, following Anne from behind.

She glanced across the grass and trees. The swing she played on as a little girl was still there as well. The joy and laughter resonated in her mind. She remembered i t all like they had just happened yesterday.

"Darling, our Angeline scored full marks in her examination again. You must reward her well." That was the voice of her gentle, loving mother.

"Tsk, Mom, Angel gets full marks in everything. Her midterms, her final exams, and her entrance exams. The amount of times she got 100 is more than dozens o f times by now. She's numb from all the rewards you've given her," the voice of jealousy was coming from her brother. Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

"Why don’t you reward me instead?"

After Zayne uttered his shameless thoughts, he was immediately cursed out by his father. "Aren't you ashamed? Your little sister gets 100 in every subject, yet you've failed all of yours. Can I even hand Severe Enterprises over to you in the future?"

"Dad, just hand it to Angeline. My dream isn't to manage a company. My dream is to be a soldier-"

"Your sister's a girl and she’ll eventually marry someone."

"Aren't there Aunty Connors' kids as well?"

"Zayne, would you like to get spanked?"

Rose stood in the courtyard with a cloud of mist floating in her eyes.

Scenes of the past still haunted her mind. However, she knew a single truth-The withering of the Severe family was foreseen long ago.

Zayne's ambition was not in the family's business. As prideful and as outstanding as she was, she was still a girl. Moreover, she was a girl with deep passionate emotions.

Not to mention, their grandfather disallowed Aunty Connors’ sons from stepping foot inside Severe Enterprises.

Anne noticed that 'he' was not following close to her. She stood on the stone steps and turned to look at 'him '. "By the way, what should I call you?"

The youngster hid 'his' emotions in a hurry and turned to smile politely, then said, "Call me Ange."

Anne said nothing else and turned around to step into the house.

“Dear, someone's looking for you."

The light in the house was dim. He stood in a rigorous posture in front of the French window. Under the backlight, his figure appeared desolated.

When he turned around, one could see the deep wrinkles on his thin face, as if they had been carved b y years of hardships.