Quinn 1: Chapter 1: The Perfect Mrs.
Quinn The Rosewood estate was situated on a gentle hillside, lying right on the boundary between the peaceful suburbs and the bustling center of New York City.
The scenery here was absolutely breathtaking, the security strict; it was undeniably an exclusive area reserved for the indisputable elite of the state.
On the winding road shaded by ancient trees leading up the hill, a dazzling red sports car appeared.
The car was driving at no slow speed, arriving at the estate’s gates in the blink of an eye.
After passing through the automatic identification scanning system, the artistic wrought-iron gates slowly opened.
The security guard standing straight in the guard booth, seeing the person sitting in the driver’s seat through the slightly open car window, touched the brim of his hat in a salute and smiled: “Hello, Mrs.
Quinn.” The woman had large, chestnut-brown wavy hair cascading down to her waist, and her facial features were delicate and sharp.
Her pale pink lips made her entire being look truly gentle.
At a glance, she was a perfect beauty, yet she brought about a very approachable feeling.
Seeing the security guard greeting her, Chloe gave a faint smile, nodded slightly, and casually honked the horn in response.
After that, she stepped on the gas and drove into the private compound.
Looking through the rearview mirror and clearly seeing the contours of her own face, Chloe felt a bit startled.
She did not know since when she had become completely accustomed to her title changing from “Miss Chloe” to “Mrs.
Quinn.” She was clearly only twenty-five years old; this title of Mrs.
Quinn was indeed…
a bit mature.
While lost in thought, the red sports car stopped in front of a Neoclassical-style villa, slowly driving into the gravel driveway before the engine was turned off.
Chloe opened the door and stepped out of the car.
Her figure was incredibly slender, and on her feet was a pair of low square-heeled black silk sandals, the newest model of the season from the Jimmy Choo brand.
She wore an expensive, custom-tailored V-neck silk blouse paired with plum-colored wide-leg trousers.
Even wearing low-heeled shoes, she did not lose a single bit of her haughty aura; her endlessly long legs were still incredibly eye-catching.
This outfit clearly would have been more glamorous if paired with stiletto heels, but Chloe was inherently a practical person.
Naturally, she would not do something as dangerous as driving in stilettos, ignoring her own safety like that.
Moreover, with her currently exhausted mood, it was truly unsuitable to teeter on high heels.
While thinking, she walked around to the back and opened the trunk.
At this moment, the phone in her handbag rang.
Chloe carried the branded paper bags out of the trunk with one hand, pulled out her phone with the other, and glanced at the caller’s name: Mother Eleanor.
With a smile on her lips, she swiped the screen to answer: “I am listening, Mother…” Eleanor on the other end of the line immediately narrowed her eyes in a smile upon hearing that sweet and soft “Mother.” She silently thought how fortunate it was that she and Richard had sharp eyes and acted quickly back then, otherwise, where would they have found such an outstanding and agreeable daughter-in-law.
“Have you arrived home yet, Chloe?” Eleanor inquired.
“I just reached the parking area.” Carrying things in one hand and holding the phone in the other, Chloe found it a bit inconvenient to close the trunk.
At this moment, a woman around fifty years old stepped out of the house in a neat housekeeper’s uniform, her facial expression looking very composed.
She stepped forward to help Chloe close the trunk of the sports car, then smoothly took the bags from Chloe’s hand.
“Thank you, Martha,” Chloe mouthed silently to the housekeeper.
Martha first bowed her head and smiled with pursed lips, then looked up and pointed at the phone by Chloe’s ear, also mouthing a question: “Is Mrs.
Eleanor calling?” Seeing Chloe nod, she then turned and carried the items into the house.
“Chloe, you must be tired today, aren’t you?” Eleanor said caringly.
“Young people usually are busy with their own schedules, yet you still had to go shopping and have afternoon tea with me all day.” “I wish I could stroll around town with you every day, getting to dine at Michelin-starred restaurants and bringing gifts home, too,” Chloe laughed and said.
“My small art gallery is just to kill time; there is nothing to be busy about.” “Only you are the sweetest.” Eleanor was clearly very happy hearing this.
The two chatted for a little while longer.
Just as Chloe was about to push the main door to enter the hall, Eleanor on the other end of the line suddenly asked a question: “Chloe, when are you two going to let Richard and me hold a grandchild?” “…” Chloe indicated that this topic leaped too fast; a second ago, they were clearly just discussing how the diamond on Mrs.
Robinson’s necklace at the country club was cut too sloppily…
Diamond necklaces and babies, what did these two things have to do with each other?
“Mother…” Chloe was a bit troubled; having a child was a matter for two people, what was the use of her alone confidently guaranteeing it here: “Julian lately…
he is too busy with his schedule at the conglomerate.” “That boy…
sigh, forget it!” Eleanor sighed, no longer dwelling on this matter.
She knew very well Chloe’s gentle nature, always putting her husband’s schedule first, so saying more would be useless.
After all, in the beginning, Julian and Chloe entered this marriage as a strategic alliance between two families.
That the two of them could live in harmony together for the past two years, she was already very thankful to God!
She understood her own son; if he still had a barrier in his heart, then…
Thinking of some past events from two years ago, Eleanor suddenly became lost in thought.
“Mother…?” Chloe was surprised by the sudden silence from the other end of the line.
Eleanor snapped back to reality, reminding Chloe to arrange time over the weekend to return to the main manor for dinner, added a few more trivial things, and then hung up.
Chloe lowered her head and stared at the phone screen for a long time, her lips slightly pursed, already having a calculation in her heart, only then pushing the door and stepping inside.
“Madam,” Housekeeper Martha, who was in the hall just now, came forward to welcome her.
“I have placed your items in the dressing room.” Chloe nodded, and was about to step onto the spiral staircase but suddenly turned around and asked: “Martha, is Julian coming home tonight?” “I have not received any calls from the secretary notifying that he will not return, so he is likely coming home, madam,” Martha replied.
Chloe gave a “yes” and lifted her feet to walk upstairs.
Stepping into the Master bedroom shared with Julian, the interior was filled with high-end oak furniture and neutral tones.
At a glance, it was very elegant and luxurious, yet incredibly restrained, exactly like the cold feeling Julian brought to others.
On the wall right at the head of the bed hung a wedding photo framed in expensive silver.
The man was very handsome, wearing a handcrafted black tuxedo, his figure towering, only his facial expression was somewhat stern.
Although the corners of his mouth were slightly raised, the feeling it gave off lacked any warmth.
The woman beside him was also smiling, her deep blue eyes curved and sparkling, her face overflowing with sweet happiness.
The wedding photo was flawlessly standard; the two stood in front of an ancient church backdrop, separated by a distance of exactly a fist.
Yet, such a tiny distance felt like being separated by an entire ocean.
Chloe tilted her head and stared blankly at the photo for a moment, then snapped back to reality and shook her head.
Seeing the shopping bags placed on the bench at the end of the bed, she took them over and slowly organized them.
Carrying a few new dresses in her hands, Chloe pushed open the double doors on the bedroom wall and turned on the lights.
Behind the doors was a dressing room as massive as a fashion boutique.
One side was filled with men’s suits, shirts, and ties, mostly in cold and dark tones.
The other side was piled with women’s dresses and handbags, mostly in warm tones; the dividing boundary was so clear it was harsh.
Casually hanging the dresses on the rack, Chloe felt a bit frustrated.
Her delicate brows furrowed slightly; she was clearly used to this formal married life, so why was she acting up with this unpleasant sensitivity today?
When she agreed to sign the marriage registration paper, didn’t she already know beforehand that she would have to live these days treating each other with mutual respect like guests?