[Lloyd Garmadon x Reader]
She was adored, he was ignored,
Her life bloomed like a rose, his, thorned and torn.
She owned the world, his dreams mere mist,
His heart, cold, spurned hers with a cruel twist.
As she dimmed away, his eyes opened wide,
She...
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~🌠✨⭐✨🌠~
'One... two... three...'
'Sixteen... seventeen... eighteen...'
'Twenty... twenty-four... thirty...'
'Forty-eight...'
As the elevator ascended, I counted the passing floors, my anticipation mounting with each number. My fingers fidgeted nervously, tightening their hold on my Lady Dior handbag, my palms growing clammy.
Draped in what the fashion world would dub my Sunday Best, I adorned myself in a Valentino crepe mini dress, elegantly complemented by black Addie Loafers.
With a gentle 'ding,' the elevator doors parted, signaling my arrival at the fiftieth floor. Stepping out, I traversed the sleek lobby to the front desk, where an attendant was stationed.
As I approached, she rose from her seat, offering a slight bow of acknowledgment. "Welcome, Miss [Name]," she greeted with practiced courtesy.
I returned the gesture with a nod, stating my purpose succinctly, "I'm here for a meeting with my mother."
Taking a seat back at her desk, the receptionist focused her attention on the computer screen. "Forgive me," she began, her tone apologetic, "but the Madame is currently in a meeting with Creston Co." Furrowing her brow, she double-checked my mother's schedule.
The Creston Corporation stood as one of the premier bijouterie businesses in Ninjago, renowned for its exquisite craftsmanship and impeccable reputation. As a branch of the esteemed [Surname] Group's jewelry division, it held a prestigious position within the industry.
"It appears there might have been a scheduling error. Would you like to wait in her office until she returns?" she suggested. "I'll have someone bring in some tea or coffee in a moment," she assured me.
As she made the offer, I couldn't help but feel a pang of skepticism. My mother was meticulous with her schedule; any deviation would be out of character.
I shook my head, dismissing the notion of waiting, "No, I'll just go inside the meeting. Could you please tell me where it's being held?"
Her eyes widened with apprehension at my suggestion. "Pardon? I-I'm not so sure that would be a great idea..." Before she could elaborate, the landline on her desk interrupted with a shrill ring. "Excuse me," she said hastily, reaching for the receiver.
"Yes?" she answered the phone, a faint crease forming on her brow as she listened intently. I immediately knew that it was my mother she was talking to, "Yes, Miss [Name] has arrived," she confirmed, acknowledging my presence to her on the other end of the line.
"Yes, Madame, I'll escort her right over," she concluded the conversation before replacing the receiver. With a graceful motion, she rose from her seat and gestured toward a nearby hallway.
