The atmosphere in the Grand Ballroom was thick with expensive perfume and unspoken grudges. It was the annual Solaris Gala, the one night of the year where the city's elite—and those desperate to be among them—gathered to see and be seen.
Donyan stood by the balcony entrance, the cool night air biting at her bare shoulders. She wore a dress of midnight blue silk that caught the light with every movement. She wasn't there for the champagne; she was there for the contract that lay inside the private study—a contract her rival, Sabrina, was desperate to claim. donyan sb catfight
"You look tired, Donyan," Sabrina sneered, leaning casually against the wall. "Late nights? The Van Der Houten proposal is quite demanding. You should just go home. I’ll handle it." The atmosphere in the Grand Ballroom was thick
Donyan walked into the study. She hadn't won the physical fight cleanly, but she had won the war of nerves. And in this world, that was the only victory that mattered. She wore a dress of midnight blue silk