Chapter 3: Transformation

"Ms. Willows, holding the cup like that is not elegant."

"Ms. Willows, you’re using the wrong knife."

"Ms. Willows, your steps are too long. Start again!"

"Ms. Willows, Ms. Willows, Ms. Willows..."

Sherry jolted awakes from the nightmare. Since moving into her new home, she had been subjected to relentless training sessions designed to transform her into a refined lady—or at the very least, someone who wouldn’t embarrass Rye Mavis. The grueling sessions, stretching until 11 p.m., had left her utterly exhausted. Even after her nightly skincare routine with a professional, she barely made it to bed before the weight of it all invaded her dreams.

Her eyes flicked to the clock: 8 a.m. sharp. In just 30 minutes, the lessons would resume covering what remained unfinished the day before. At 3 p.m., stylists and designers would arrive to finalize her look, and by 6 p.m., she would be attending the much-anticipated party. Sherry sighed, the weight of the day ahead pressing down on her like an immovable boulder. For a brief moment, she wished she could stay in bed, untouched by the world demanding her transformation. But there was no escaping it—not even in her dreams.

"If I’ve taken their money, then I need to give it my all!" Sherry told herself, straightening her posture and calming her nerves as she descended the stairs.

"Ms. Willows, you’re absolutely stunning!" one of the designers exclaimed, their voice tinged with genuine admiration.

Sherry Willows’ striking blue eyes and radiant golden hair made her a vision of delicate beauty, exuding a quiet grace that drew people in and evoked an almost instinctive desire to protect her. The stylists and designers leaned into this natural allure, dressing her in a pristine white gown. The fitted bodice accentuated her elegant figure, while the modest mermaid-cut skirt flared just enough to allow fluid, graceful movement.

Her golden hair, shimmering like sunlight, required no elaborate styling. The team opted for soft waves at the ends, framing her face effortlessly, and added touches of fresh flowers that further enhanced her ethereal appearance. Her makeup was crafted with precision—delicate and luminous, designed to amplify her natural beauty without overshadowing the host of the evening.

"Tonight is Ms. Willows’ grand debut; every detail must be impeccable. There’s no room for error." Arden was meticulously inspecting the array of luxury jewelry sent by prestigious brands.

Arden carefully examines the jewelry presented by various brands. In the end, he selects a set featuring a necklace and earrings, elegantly crafted from premium sapphires, their deep blue hue perfectly mirroring the color of Sherry's eyes.

"Mr. Arden, Mr. Mavis has arrived and is waiting in the car."

"Still 30 minutes before the appointment—why is he here so early?"

"He wants to go over some business matters with Ms. Willows he said there was no need to rush, just take your time."

"If that's the case, there's no need for anyone to hurry.”Arden said with a composed smile. "Take it slow and make sure everything is perfect."

"Mark my words—when Mr. Mavis sees you looking this breathtaking, he’ll fall for you even more."

After 20 minutes of being surrounded by the crowd, the poor girl was finally released, given a moment to catch her breath. Aside from Arden, Sherry and Rye, no one knew about the contract-they all assumed Sherry and Rye were truly in love. With a faint, polite smile, Sherry made the most of her reprieve to listen as the etiquette instructor went over the art of walking elegantly and gracefully in a long gown. When everything was ready, Sherry drew a deep breath, steadied herself, and moved with light, poised steps, just as she had been taught, heading straight for Rye’s parked car. The soft click of the car door closing signaled the start of their journey. As the vehicle glided forward, the two sat silently in the back seat, neither speaking a word.

A flicker of curiosity stirred in Sherry, prompting her to steal a glance at her "boyfriend" by the contract. Though she had looked into him beforehand, Rye’s appearance still took her by surprise. His beauty defied convention not ruggedly masculine like most men, but striking in a way that was both delicate and imposing. His sharp features, alabaster skin, and icy demeanor exuded a rare elegance, like the bloom of a winter narcissus. His crystal-clear blue eyes mirrored the brilliance of a midday sky, while his light brown hair shimmered subtly in the sunlight, shifting hues as it glowed, enhancing his tranquil, unshakable presence like a still lake under the golden light.

"Why did you make such a request?"

Sherry was so startled she nearly jumped out of her seat. Carefully, she glanced at the breathtakingly handsome man beside her. Rye hadn’t so much as spared a glance in her direction since she’d entered the car. Instead, his attention was entirely focused on the financial report in his hands, his demeanor as composed as ever.

"Because I don’t have any acting talent." she mumbled softly.

"I’ve watched a few of your films." Rye replied, his tone calm but firm."With the right guidance, you’d perform much better."

That was the old Sherry, not me. She thought to herself.

"Thank you, sir, but that won’t be necessary." she said politely, her voice steady this time.

"Suit yourself," Rye said nonchalantly, returning his focus to the report.

Two people arrived at the grand, luxurious hotel. Rye stepped out first with a composed elegance, gesturing for Sherry to follow. Remembering her lessons, she greeted the press with a poised, graceful smile. Cameras followed their every move, and the relentless flashes of light made her head spin slightly. Her hand resting on Rye’s arm instinctively tightened, sensing his pace quicken ever so slightly as they moved through the crowd.

Once they were free from the glare of the cameras, Sherry exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. Though she had practiced for moments like this, the real experience felt far more overwhelming. Rye handed her a glass filled with a deep crimson liquid. Assuming it was wine, Sherry shook her head politely, signaling she couldn’t drink alcohol. Rye, however, insisted gently, his expression unwavering. Reluctantly, she accepted the glass and took a small sip, only to realize it was just grape juice. She turned to him with a soft, appreciative smile and nodded in thanks.

It was only now that Rye truly took in the woman walking beside him. Her golden hair gleamed like sunlight, highlighting her flawless, porcelain skin. Rye’s eyes resembled the boundless blue of a summer sky, while Sherry’s was like a serene ocean, still and unbroken. Their beauty was strikingly different: Rye’s was calm and distant, with an air of aloofness that seemed to warn others to keep their distance, while Sherry’s was soft and delicate, like a gentle fawn seeking shelter. Despite their contrasts, they complemented each other so perfectly it was almost surreal.

Sherry did bear a certain resemblance to Elena Oswal, his first love. But the Elena he remembered was nothing like this. She had been a predator cloaked in charm—a snake lying in wait. Even as a student, her eyes brimmed with a maturity far too sinister, filled with desires that belied her age. The rumors about his affection for Elena were vastly exaggerated; in truth, Rye had never cared for her that way. Still, he let those whispers linger, finding them useful in fending off the deluded women who sought to scheme their way into his bed.

“Mr. Mavis, our collaboration last quarter was beyond expectations. I’m genuinely looking forward to the joint projects we have planned for next year.”

A portly man stepped forward, embodying the stereotypical image of a sleazy chairman often depicted in web dramas. Men like him were typically accompanied by stunning, long-legged models clad in tight dresses with high slits that flaunted their figures. Sherry mentally scolded herself for watching too many dramas—who knew, maybe he was actually a decent person.

“I’m equally excited, Mr. Wade.” Mavis replied smoothly. But Wade’s attention had already shifted to Sherry, who stood quietly beside Rye. His lecherous grin made her skin crawl.

“The lady beside you is absolutely gorgeous!” Wade exclaimed, his eyes lingering. Then he turned to the young woman standing behind him. “Riley, greet Mr. Mavis.”

Riley, a striking redhead with a figure that could stop traffic, allowed herself to be pulled forward. Taking advantage of the motion, she practically hurled herself toward Rye, only for him to step aside gracefully, evading her attempt. Undeterred, she extended her hand toward Rye for a handshake, using the opportunity to flip her hair back, drawing attention to her voluptuous curves.

“Good evening, Mr. Mavis.” she purred. Her bold red gown clung to her every curve, her long legs teasingly visible through the slit, matching the fiery color of her hair. Sherry watched the scene unfold, silently reminding herself to trust her intuition more often—it rarely steered her wrong.

“Good evening, Mr. Mavis.”

Her striking figure was perfectly showcased in a body-hugging dress, her long legs teasingly visible through the high slit of her gown—a fiery red that matched the shade of her hair. Sherry reminded herself to trust her instincts and sharp perception more often.

“Sherry, this is Mr. Wade, the CFO of one of the 14 companies seeking to collaborate with Mavis Corporation in the upcoming quarter.” Rye introduced smoothly. Sherry, ever intuitive, caught the subtle subtext. Rye was signaling that Wade was just another executive, not someone worth her attention.

“Good evening, Mr. Wade. I’m Sherry Willows.” She delivered her standard, polite smile, her hands deliberately clutching her handbag to avoid any suggestion of a handshake.

“She’s my girlfriend!” Rye added casually, wrapping an arm around Sherry’s waist and stepping closer to her, completely ignoring Riley, who was still attempting to charm him. Sherry had no objection to his gesture. She was being compensated for this role, and she intended to play her part as required.

Wade’s face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger at being so plainly dismissed. However, surrounded by so many prominent guests, he had no choice but to retreat with a forced smile. The red-haired Riley trailed after him, but not before Sherry noticed her flitting from one man to another, ultimately leaving with an older guest who looked old enough to be her father. Wade, standing nearby, seemed to find the entire spectacle endlessly amusing.

How pitiful! Sherry thought with a quiet shake of her head.