At the corner of the staircase, a girl stepped out in a pale pink gown, her every move light and graceful—like a lotus drifting across still water.
The moment she appeared, the whole banquet hall went silent, every pair of eyes naturally drawn to her.
Her delicate features were pure and sweet. Her fair skin seemed to glow under the lights, and those bright, clear eyes under slender brows, almost looked like they could speak.
There was an effortless allure about her, like it came from her very bones—simply born to capture attention.
“Is that the bride-to-be? She's absolutely stunning!”
“Marrying someone like her must be a blessing!”
Guests who weren’t in the know had already mistaken Amelia Johnson for Sabrina Johnson, and that alone had Sabrina fuming with jealousy.
