Mid-November, the weather had already turned chilly. Daisy Ginger put on a trench coat, clocked out, and walked out of the office.
Oliver Rubio had just emerged from the secretarial room and couldn't help but to sigh as he saw Daisy's departing figure: they say that marriage is the grave of love, but for Daisy, marrying Edward Stephens had changed her entire demeanor. She was like a well-nurtured, vibrant rose, so bright that people dared not look directly at her.
She had always been extremely beautiful, and now beauty couldn't even begin to describe her. It was as if she had absorbed the essence of countless young men and women, and even a single glance could captivate the soul.
Even Oliver Rubio, a traditional man focused on family, at times dared not look directly at Daisy's face, always feeling that her bright, watery eyes were breathtaking at a glance.
