Zane.
The moment Jasmine stepped onto the stage, the room shifted.
It wasn’t dramatic, not in the way the movies showed it, no wind machine or gasp from the crowd… but I swear, I felt it. Like the energy inside that ballroom dipped for a second, the lights somehow sharpened, and all the idle conversation and laughter died down until there was only one thing left in the room: her.
She stood in the spotlight with the velvet curtain brushing her back, one hand at her side, the other resting lightly on her thigh like she wasn’t sure what to do with it. Her shoulders were tense, I could tell, her chin pushed a little high; like she was trying to fake confidence and almost pulling it off. Almost.
But her eyes. God, those eyes. They were wide, golden, and fierce, even if she didn’t know it ye
