Satisfied with his attitude, Mrs. Vance sent Molly upstairs to fetch a jewelry box from her room.
Once she was gone, Mrs. Vance turned to her son. "Beautiful, isn't she? Absolutely gorgeous. It's not too late to regret this, you know."
"What would I regret? I just noticed she has a mole on the tip of her nose."
"Oh? One little mole and you can't look away?" She snorted. "Keep pretending. You think I don't know you? I pushed you out of my own body."
Molly was undeniably beautiful. Her hair, which had been pinned up earlier, now cascaded over her shoulders like dark seaweed.
Her skin was porcelain-pale, her features exquisitely delicate. Sitting in the passenger seat, she dabbed concealer over the tiny mole on the tip of her nose, then applied a bold red lipstick. The effect was striking—elegant yet commanding.
Miles glanced over. "Why cover it up?"
It took Molly a moment to realize he meant the mole.
"It's too cutesy."
Miles understood. A twenty-six-year-old female executive couldn't afford to look endearing. That little mole on her nose gave her an innocent, almost provocative charm—not exactly the image that commanded respect in a boardroom.
He said nothing more, focusing on the road.