The banquet hall shimmered with fairy lights. Velvet curtains flowed gently with the evening breeze, classical music swirled through the air, and everyone dressed like they were walking straight out of a dream. But no one—not a single soul—looked like her.
Aira stepped into the hall, her long black satin dress hugging her curves, the daring slit gliding up her thigh with every confident step. Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose, cascading waves, her lips painted a shade of red Dominic had never seen on her before. It wasn’t loud—it was sinful.
Zain, standing in a sharply fitted suit, nearly forgot how to breathe as he stared. "You look... you just killed every single person in here."
She laughed softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "You clean up nice too."
As
