This Time, I'll Be the Villain's Favorite Daughter novel Chapter 358

Chapter 358 All Pink

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Maya adjusted her bangs. After a few seconds, she noticed that Ned had already leaned back in his chair and returned his attention to the documents on his desk. His bangs hung quietly over his forehead. From the side, his hair actually looked surprisingly nice.

It was as if some hidden line of code had been triggered, or maybe it was just pure reflex.

Maya couldn’t stop herself from reaching out.

With outrageous audacity, she grabbed a handful of her uncle’s hair.

Ned’s hair was soft, slightly warm from the sunlight streaming through the window.

A dead silence fell over the office for three seconds.

Ned slowly looked up, exposing his forehead and a pair of dark

eyes.

The tired expression on his face vanished, replaced by complete blankness.

Sunlight poured directly across his features.

“…Maya?”

His voice was flat, though the very end lifted ever so slightly.

The moment she finished ruffling his hair, Maya bolted. She moved with the effortless agility of a cat that had successfully launched a sneak attack.

Even the swish of her skirt seemed to radiate triumph.

Ned’s bangs were sticking straight up.

One rebellious lock stood proudly on his forehead, paired with a face that still hadn’t fully recovered from the processing delay.

At that moment, he looked less like the mastermind of a powerful underground organization.

He looked more like an exhausted office worker whose cat had just walked across his keyboard.

“…Maya.” His tone deepened as he stared straight at her.

“Bye!”

The door slammed shut.

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Chapter 358 All Pink

Ned remained alone in his office chair.

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The curtains were still wide open, leaving nowhere for the sunlight to hide the pallor of his face.

Slowly, he raised a hand and tried pressing the stray lock of hair back down. When that failed, he slumped face–first onto his desk again.

“…Bad kid,” he muttered.

After a week of bodyguard duty, Somalie’s fondness for her two servants had skyrocketed.

At noon, she summoned both girls to her residence.

It was a genuine Aradune–style villa, with wrought–iron gates, plaster–carved ceilings, and an entry hall nearly 20 feet high. Softly painted acanthus motifs spread across the domed ceiling, while genuine oil paintings lined the corridor walls on either side. It felt more like stumbling into a princess’s castle.

Somalie opened one of the doors.

The room was packed wall–to–wall with clothes–every fabric imaginable, every variety of lace, every kind of ribbon and bow. It looked as if a high–end couture warehouse had exploded on the spot.

Iris peeked over Somalie’s shoulder, her mouth silently forming a perfect wow.

Maya and Iris stood in the doorway, simultaneously making the sound of people who had never seen the world.

“My mom also likes buying clothes for me,” Maya said, staring at the endless sea of pink stretching before her. There was a faint tremor in her voice. “But never this many.”

Within the Clarks, Wendy’s shopping habits were already considered legendary.

But compared to this heiress, even her mother had clearly been defeated.

Somalie stood in the middle of the mountain of clothing, muttering to herself in rapid Saplish that neither of them could understand.

After finishing her one–sided conversation, she spun around dramatically, dug through the pile, and pulled out several pink dresses. Her eyes sparkled. “Hey, have you decided what you’re wearing to the banquet with me today?”

Maya looked down at the layers upon layers of pink lace that had suddenly been stuffed into

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Chapter 358 All Pink

her arms. Her brain stalled for a full second. “Huh?”

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Iris lifted a dress with a skirt so enormous that it looked capable of concealing a Gatling gun underneath. She asked with difficulty, “Do we have to wear these?”

“Everyone at school has been talking about a banquet hosted by one of the old–money families. My dad told me to attend, so of course I’m bringing people I know with me.”

Somalie completely failed to receive their resistance. Sitting on the arm of the couch, she swung her legs back and forth and said sweetly, “You two should thank me.

“Come on. What kind of style do you like?”

Maya held up one of the dresses against herself for comparison. After a moment’s thought, she abandoned any hope of arguing logically. “It’s not like we really have a choice, do we?”

This heiress was genuinely obsessed with pink dresses.

Every single one she picked up was pink.

There were light pink, peach pink, cherry–blossom pink, and rose pink.

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