Ivy’s POV.

I ran my fingers through the tangled mess of hair on my head as I descended the stairs. I was wearing a black crop top and beige wide-legged pants. I stood at the entrance of the dining area where my parents were already seated, and servants dressed in formal black and white attire hurried in and out, laying the table.

I watched them silently for a moment. My father, a tall man with a lanky build and curly dark hair, was dressed in a flowery shirt and casual slacks. His eyes, a lighter shade of blue, were fixated on my mother with an excited glint. She was all...