Mysterious Mrs. Pansy

A young woman stepped out of the Guavo train station, clad in a crisp white T-shirt and jeans. The sun’s gentle caress flushed her delicate features, and she tucked a few stray curls behind her ears.

Beneath her elegant, arched eyebrows were striking eyes, a slender nose, and cherry-red lips. Her natural beauty required no enhancement from makeup.

“Hello, Miss North, I presume? I’m the driver sent by the Pansy family,” the chauffeur greeted as Jane North nodded in response and settled into the car, her fatigue evident.Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive © material.

During the journey, the driver surreptitiously stole glances at the young woman, her eyes closed as she rested in the back seat.

This woman was none other than Patrick Pansy’s fiancée.

At just twenty-one, Patrick was already the formidable CEO of Pansy Group, setting him apart from his peers. He exuded vitality and a no-nonsense demeanor that commanded respect, striking fear into the hearts of many in the business world. His grandfather, Mike Pansy, had taken it upon himself to find him a suitable bride, and Jane, a countryside girl, was the chosen one.

With his hands firmly on the steering wheel, the driver couldn’t help but take another glance at Jane’s innocent countenance and shook his head, foreseeing the challenges she would face within the Pansy family.

As Jane gradually opened her eyes, she gazed upon the unfamiliar city with a calm, composed expression.

The car arrived at the grand Pansy family residence in no time, and the driver assisted Jane with her luggage.

Jane had barely set foot inside when a well-dressed woman appeared before her, her eyes filled with disdain.

“Wendy!”

“Yes, Mrs. Pansy,” a maid promptly responded.

Upon a signal from Beatrice Pansy, she began spraying disinfectant around Jane.

Beatrice Pansy, Patrick’s mother, stood with hands on her hips, issuing orders. “Spray her shoes and hair as well.”

The strong, astringent scent made Jane’s nose tingle. She couldn’t help but retort, “What’s the matter with you?”

Beatrice flew into a fit of anger. “I’ve heard that you come from the countryside, but I assumed you’d have some manners. It seems that you’re no different from those ill-mannered girls they raise over there. I’m doing this to prevent any viruses or bacteria you might bring into our home. Do you want us to catch whatever you’re carrying?”

Jane, never one to tolerate disrespect, would have walked away if it weren’t for the deal she had made with her grandfather. “In that case, you might want to spray some disinfectant in your mouth; it seems to need it.”

With this response, Jane brushed the servant aside and entered the house.

Beatrice was left speechless, pointing at Jane with a trembling hand.

Wendy rushed to comfort her.

In the living room, a girl about the same age as Jane sat on the sofa, adorned in designer clothes and heavy makeup. Her expression oozed condescension as she observed Jane. She was Melissa Pansy, Patrick’s cousin.

“Are you Jane North, Patrick’s fiancée?” Melissa rolled her eyes upon seeing Jane’s attire, clearly unimpressed.

“Goodness, Grandpa certainly lacks taste. I can’t believe he chose someone like you. I heard you came here by train. You should have told us you couldn’t afford a plane ticket; we would have bought one for you. Well, I suppose there’s no airport in the countryside, is there?”

Jane raised an eyebrow as she examined Melissa, wondering if every member of this family was as arrogant as they appeared. Although there was no airport in her hometown, her grandfather had reserved an entire high-speed train to Guavo exclusively for her. These arrogant individuals were oblivious to the luxurious nature of her journey, or the fact that she could have easily traveled by private jet if she so desired.

Jane could have set them straight, but she chose not to, simply walking upstairs instead. Melissa, infuriated by the lack of attention, couldn’t resist following her.

“Where’s my room?” Jane inquired of the maid nearby.

“Right this way,” the maid responded, but before she could guide her, Melissa intervened with condescension. “You’ve probably never had a room this size. You should appreciate it while you’re here. I’m Patrick’s cousin, Melissa. You should fawn over me if you…”

Before Melissa could finish her sentence, Jane stepped into the room, firmly shutting the door in her face. Melissa seethed with anger.

“Ah! How can that pauper be so arrogant? What was Grandpa thinking?” The maid cautiously approached Melissa.

“Miss, isn’t this Mr. Pansy’s room?”

Melissa looked scornfully at the door. “Hush! Don’t tell her. Patrick despises anyone in his personal space or using his things. When he finds out she’s here, just say she chose this room.”

A sly glint in Melissa’s eyes hinted at her cunning intentions.