The wind whipped Seraphina Quinn's hair into a frenzy, obscuring her vision.
She found her long hair so irritating. She wanted to take a pair of scissors to it and cut away all the suffocating troubles it represented.
She raised a hand, tucking her hair behind her ear. Looking at the impossibly handsome, impeccably dressed man in the car, she spoke with an air of casual indifference.
"Is it perhaps because... I look like Mr. Fairchild's fiancée?"
Seraphina Quinn hadn't just blurted that out.
She had previously studied Damian Fairchild's fiancée carefully, and the woman did indeed resemble her.
If they were to stand side-by-side, anyone who didn't know them would assume they were sisters.
"You two... do share a certain resemblance."
Damian Fairchild offered his response from inside the car.
After he spoke, he had the driver roll up the window, and the car sped away, kicking up dust.
