I walk down the grand stairs of Lennox’s mansion in a classy deep purple dress.
The fabric clings to my body perfectly, smooth and luxurious. The halter neckline that wraps snugly around my neck, with a draped piece of fabric flowing over my shoulder down to my knee, adding a majestic touch.
My hair is styled up in a casual bun, stray tendrils framing my face, while the soft makeup accentuates my features with perfection.
Aldo, my bodyguard, helps me down the stairs while Lennox stands at the very end.
I have been avoiding him all day. I’m glad he wasn’t not in the mood to have lunch together.
But as the clock struck 6 p.m, my door burst open, and Madam Adora stormed in, tablet in hand, flanked by two familiar faces—a fashion designer and a makeup artist I instantly recogniz
