Author's pov
"I am Belinda. Please forgive me for keeping you waiting."
She glided to the center of the ballroom like she owned the air around her, every movement smooth and calculated. The guests responded as if drawn by some invisible magnet--curious, intrigued, and a little too eager to be near her.
Up close, the unease only deepened.
Her features were flawless in a way that didn't feel real--high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, a sculpted nose, and full lips painted in a shade just shy of blood red. Under the ballroom lights, her skin looked poreless, like a porcelain doll. When she smiled, her lips moved with unnerving precision, like someone whose face had been frozen in perfection one injection too many.
It was the kind of beauty that made people stare... and then flinch.
Sebastian
