THREE YEARS LATER
The ballroom glittered like a jewel box under a thousand chandeliers, each surface polished to an impossible gloss. Music drifted like silk through the air, and laughter blended with the clink of champagne flutes. But underlying the gilded surface was tension — the kind only the powerful disguised.
I moved through the crowd with the assurance of someone who belonged there, but every step was purposeful. My heels clicked on the marble floor, each one the measured beat of my heart. My emerald satin gown shimmered in the light, clinging to every curve like armor, and my mask—smooth, obsidian crystals flung like stars rested lightly over my face, concealing all… and nothing.
They didn’t know me. Not yet.
Three years ago, I’d been a shadow in rooms like these. And then I w
