es, she applied her makeup. It wasn't about caking it on; it was about enhancement. A touch of concealer to hide the faint bruise on her cheekbone, a subtle contour to sharpen her jawline

at the nape of her neck, revealing the long, graceful

ryana had pictured it straining against a soft, undisciplined body, creating unsightly bulges and turning a beautiful dres

er frame, clinging to a body honed by years of relentless training. There were no bulges, no strained seams. There was only

er eyes. Bryana's malice was so transparent. If she were anyo

even the most experienced party-goer. Bryana had envisioned Catherine teetering, stumbling,

mmodate the height. She took a few steps across the plush carpet, her movements fluid and confident. Her balance was absolu

e. In her place stood a queen, armored in Gucci silk and armed with killer heels. She wa

pation. Bryana, surrounded by her sycophantic friends, was laughing loudly, telling them to watch the main stairc

heduled to happen at the base of that staircase. It was the perfect public stage. Bryana, impatient, s

took one last look in the mirror, took

gasped, her eyes wide with disb

top of the grand staircase, the sounds of the party floating up to meet her. She knew that every condescending glance, every whispered jo