The moment Ramona walked in, the elderly woman was the first to rise. Petite and spry, she made her way over with surprising agility, giving Ramona a once-over before reaching out to take her hand.
Ramona hesitated for a split second, but when she saw the woman’s warm, almost overflowing smile, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.
“Yes, I’m Ramona. May I ask who you are…?”
“Oh, we’re just here to take a little tour of Covington Group. We’ve heard so much about the new Covington heir—so young, so beautiful, and so accomplished—”
“Ahem.”
The old woman’s string of compliments was cut short by a gentle cough from the gentleman behind her. He shot her a look, a silent reminder not to go overboard.
He then stepped forward himself, his tone a bit more formal. “We’re here to visit Covington Group. My wife is simply very curious and wanted to see the famous Covington heiress for herself.”
“I see,” Ramona replied.
Their gazes lingered on her—direct, without a trace of disguise, but radiating nothing but kindness and warmth.
Ramona had grown up without family nearby. Not once in her life had an elder looked at her with such open affection, and the older generation of the Holt family certainly hadn’t been easygoing.
The unexpected sense of closeness brought a rush of warmth that left her momentarily at a loss.


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