At that moment, another door opened silently, almost impossibly quiet. A soft rustle echoed, and a presence emerged—Zaarim Yulzar, the Yulzar family's most extraordinary, rare, and handsome son. His arrival seemed to halt time itself within the halls of Yulzar Vintage.
Zaarim stepped out, fully prepared and immaculate. His milky skin absorbed the morning sunlight, glowing from within. Honey-colored hair was perfectly styled, each strand seemingly in its exact place, radiating quiet elegance.
The most striking were his golden eyes—not merely shining like the morning sun, but imbued with extraordinary intelligence, depth, and composure that no one could miss. Within those eyes was the perfect blend of wisdom, dignity, and childlike innocence.
Even his delicate features were a masterpiece. Sharp, refined lines traced his face, each contour precise and breathtaking, marking him as the most beautiful and unique heir of the Yulzar family.
Zaarim's steps were silent yet purposeful, every movement exuding poise and authority. Despite being only seven, he carried himself like a future king. The servants instinctively stepped aside, their eyes a mixture of awe, respect, and quiet admiration.
He walked slowly toward the breakfast table, already set and ready. His presence hushed the room, drawing Zulqarnain's gaze repeatedly, as if the patriarch were trying to fathom the hidden power and potential within this golden child.
After breakfast, Zaarim moved toward the private stairway leading directly to the marble courtyard, where luxury cars awaited the morning journey to school. Every step he took radiated dignity, precision, and royal command, imprinting his presence across the entire estate.