Selene teetered at the brink, toes flirting with disaster, hair going full Medusa because the wind had zero chill. Salt spray smacked her in the face—real cute, like the ocean’s personal wake-up call. People wax poetic about cliffs—romance, adventure, yada yada—but honestly? This place just screamed “giant existential question mark.”
Waves kept body-slamming the rocks, loud enough to drown out her brain… Or maybe just crank the volume on her doubts. The sun was out, technically, but warmth? Nah. The cold wasn’t just nipping at her—it was straight-up burrowed in, making itself way too comfortable, like an uninvited roommate rattling bones from the inside out.
Meanwhile, the Smith mansion? Total chaos. Maids darting around, flowers everywhere, caterers shouting about canapés—basically, Do
