KASMINE.
I sat in front of the mirror, staring at my gorgeous reflection.
I looked stunning tonight. Except it was for the wrong man.
My little black dress hugged my curves in the right proportion. The fabric stretched over the swell of my hips, traced the dip of my waist, and framed my breasts with a deep V-cut that ran deeper than the turmoil I felt inside me, exposing my cleavages, which were full and firm.
Mum had made sure every detail was perfect, down to how my hair had been styled.
She made sure to tell the maids the exact hairstyle I should wear that would compliment my light makeup and dress style.
They had gathered my curls into a loose updo, full and elegant as if the strands had been caught mid-motion and pinned in place by the wind itself.
Soft tendrils slipped free, l
