Chapter 32 The Fire Beneath The Ice
The room shimmered with gold accents and laughter, polished crystal glasses clinking like wind chimes in a storm. Genevieve stepped into the ballroom with the kind of quiet confidence that made heads turn before anyone even saw her face. Her dress, sleek black satin that hugged her hourglass curves and dipped scandalously low in the back, reflected the warm chandelier light with every move. She walked like a melody, smooth, composed, alluring. Her long curls were pinned in a deliberate mess that framed her striking collarbone and exposed nape. Diamonds dangled from her ears, subtle but deadly.
Men noticed. Women whispered.
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