Looking at herself in the mirror, Arya didn’t feel pretty at all.
Even though, she was donned in a embellish ankle length, backless black dress, her hair parted the middle, straightened and thrown aback on her shoulder, tugged behind her ear. Her eyes, lips and cheekbones enhanced with the technical makeup built up on her by a team of professional artists and stylists.
Even though, anyone else looking at her would want to admire the exquisite gorgeousness she exhibited but deep down she knew, she didn’t deserve any compliments, instead she had come to the terms that she was a woman of a dark and twisted heart.
Lucas’s words about her being a hypocrite kept ringing in her mind over and over again.
As the door to her room knocked up, she was brought out of her thoughts looking at Bia
