Home / Romance / Size-Plus Girl Owned By Three Heirs / Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

All Chapters of Size-Plus Girl Owned By Three Heirs: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

181 Chapters

171

The tablet screen on the bedside table cast a bluish glow that illuminated half of the dimly lit master bedroom of Blackthorne Mansion. The wall clock showed eleven at night, yet Isolde’s eyes remained wide open, staring at the screen with her lips pursed in annoyance.On the other side of the screen, connected through a highly encrypted private video call, two familiar faces appeared within a single frame. Evander was wearing a loose T-shirt with the wall of his hotel room in Paris behind him, decorated with architectural sketches, while Azriel sat calmly on a studio sofa with a glass of herbal tea in his hand.Isolde snorted softly and folded her arms across her chest before beginning to recount the tense incident she had experienced at her studio several days earlier. Her voice trembled slightly, carrying the remnants of the emotions she had kept bottled up.“You know what? That arrogant old woman really made me want to throw a flower vase at her head!” Isolde exclaimed indignantly

172

Two years passed in the blink of an eye. Time seemed to roll forward swiftly amid the quiet busyness that had gradually settled inside Blackthorne Mansion. Behind the large glass window of the upstairs study, Isolde stood gazing at her university graduation certificate, which had just been neatly framed in aged teak wood. Her bachelor's degree in interior design was finally in her hands, followed by rows of professional sketches that now piled thickly across her work desk. The days when she had doubted herself and been looked down upon by others had been completely worn away by hard work, extensive experience, and Lucien's unwavering support.That morning, the spring air carried a cool breeze that slipped in through the gap in the window. Isolde wore a sage-green knitted cardigan, her long brown hair left loose in its natural state. Her footsteps carried her downstairs to the ground floor, where the head butler was supervising several international logistics couriers as they unloaded

173

The morning air in the main study felt denser than usual, not because of stacks of legal case files or company financial reports, but because of a catalog as thick as a law dictionary placed right in the middle of the marble table.Raymond, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit with thin-framed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, stood upright beside the table. He turned page after page with measured movements, like a professional presenting the most crucial piece of courtroom evidence of his career. However, what he was presenting was not a bankruptcy document or a land deed, but a series of silk and French lace sketches, along with lighting simulations for a reception."A prestigious fashion designer from Paris has just sent their latest portfolio exclusively for Miss Isolde," Raymond said in a flat, formal tone, barely showing any emotion. He pointed to a page displaying a gown with a long, trailing train adorned with thousands of Swarovski crystals. "For the main gown, the

174

A cream linen-covered desk lamp cast a soft glow over the surface of the teakwood work desk in the corner of the studio. The antique European-style wall clock in the room showed two in the morning, but Isolde had not moved from her seat at all. In front of her, the latest national edition of a monthly interior design magazine lay open to its main feature page.A large headline was printed in bold, elegant letters on the inner cover of the magazine: “The Birth of a New Vision: When Warm Minimalist Touches Transform the Face of the City's Public Spaces.”Beneath the headline, a series of photographs documenting the major art gallery renovation project completed by her studio was displayed magnificently in the finest print quality. Every corner of the space—from the natural lighting filtering through the glass panels to the selection of a neutral color palette that blended perfectly with the texture of the wood—received highly praising reviews from art critics. They described the work as

175

The sky above Capital International Airport stretched wide that morning beneath a refreshing shade of bright blue, contrasting with the chilly late-autumn air that had begun to bite at the skin. In the VIP arrival area, a pitch-black sedan bearing the Blackthorne family emblem was neatly parked directly in front of the exclusive exit. Beside it, Lucien stood tall in a dark gray suit, while Isolde—who had now fully recovered from the high fever she had suffered several days earlier—stood beside him wearing a long camel-colored coat and a matching cashmere scarf.Isolde straightened the edge of her coat, occasionally glancing at her wristwatch as her fingers tapped against it anxiously. Although she knew that Evander and Azriel regularly sent updates every day, standing here to welcome them home after two full years of living abroad still stirred a strange flutter in her chest.Not long afterward, the automatic sliding glass doors opened wide. Two tall men stepped out of the terminal, i

176

The morning sunlight streamed through the glass windows of an exclusive private boutique in the heart of the city's fashion district, casting a soft shimmer over rows of wedding gowns wrapped in silk and white lace, neatly displayed behind glass partitions. The studio-apartment-sized room was decorated in an elegant modern minimalist style and filled with the soothing fragrance of white gardenias.Isolde stood on a small platform covered with gray velvet carpet, staring at her own reflection in the enormous wall-mounted mirror. She was wearing a specially designed A-line wedding gown made of soft tulle layered with Mikado silk, adorned with silver thread embroidery around the bodice. After taking a full week of complete rest at the mansion to restore her stamina following her work-related exhaustion, her complexion now looked much fresher, and her round cheeks had a healthy rosy glow, radiating a happiness she could no longer hide.On a velvet sofa a dozen steps behind the platform, t

177

The night sky above Blackthorne Mansion stretched wide without a single star, covered by a thin blanket of gray clouds hanging low over Capital City. The cold air of late autumn slowly seeped through the ventilation gaps, carrying the scent of wet earth and the fragrance of hundreds of stems of white gardenias and fresh white roses that filled every corner of the main floor. The professional decorating team had worked throughout the day, transforming the grand hall and transparent glass terrace into a dreamlike wedding venue that looked like a fragment of a fairy tale.However, inside the spacious master bedroom, Isolde felt none of the tranquility brought by the beauty outside.She sat cross-legged on the thick velvet surface at the edge of her king-size bed, wearing a loose white silk nightgown. Her long brown hair fell freely down her back. Her eyes stared blankly at the rows of small gift boxes and the white wedding gown hanging inside the glass wardrobe across the room.The hands

178

The morning in the central district of Capital City was greeted by golden sunlight filtering through the enormous stained-glass windows of Saint Jude Cathedral. The modern Gothic building stood majestically, surrounded by rows of white marble pillars and decorations of thousands of stems of white calla lilies and white roses winding along the altar walls. Outside the cathedral grounds, rows of luxurious sedans lined up neatly under tight security, while dozens of national and international media outlets were only permitted to cover the event from a safe distance behind the outer iron gates. Today was the most historic day—the wedding between the head of the Blackthorne family and renowned interior designer Isolde Ravellyn.Inside the warmly decorated bridal waiting room, Isolde stood before a large wall mirror. She was wearing her dream wedding gown: a classic A-line silhouette made of Mikado silk, adorned with delicate pearl embroidery along the bodice, paired with a transparent tull

179

The transparent glass structure standing majestically in the backyard of Blackthorne Mansion reflected the glow of thousands of fairy lights hanging in layers from the branches of ancient maple trees. Inside the semi-outdoor botanical greenhouse-style venue, the gentle melodies of a string orchestra blended perfectly with the cheerful laughter and clinking of crystal glasses from the distinguished guests. The late-autumn night air was cool, yet the warmth inside the glass tent was overwhelming, enveloping the hundreds of pairs of eyes witnessing the lively wedding reception of Lucien and Isolde.At the center of the main dance floor, Isolde stood wearing her second reception gown—a light ivory A-line evening dress made of delicate chiffon, with silver thread embroidery across the chest, making her look elegant, carefree, and radiating an aura of perfect happiness. Her round cheeks glowed warmly beneath the dim lights, while both her arms were wrapped perfectly around Lucien's neck.Th

180

The door to the master bedroom of the Blackthorne Mansion closed tightly, locking away all the hustle and bustle of the reception, the clinking of champagne glasses, and the laughter of the guests still echoing faintly from the courtyard below. As the brass-plated key turned and its security latch clicked perfectly into place, the atmosphere inside the room suddenly changed drastically—silent, intimate, and filled with a thick, vibrating warmth.Isolde stood leaning against the solid teakwood door. The evening gown made of ivory chiffon she wore felt suddenly so heavy, as though every fold of its fabric held all the racing heartbeats that had been competing against her ribcage all evening.Before her, Lucien slowly unknotted the bow tie at his neck, letting it drop right onto the thick carpet. The man stepped closer with a sharp, predatory gaze that never left his wife's figure—a gaze radiating hunger, absolute possession, and suppressed longing that he had harbored deeply behind the

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