Nia's heart dropped into her stomach.
What the hell!
She blinked twice.
She hadn't seen her sister in four years—not since everything had fallen apart, not since she'd left the family house and tried to rebuild her life from the ground up after her parents disowned her to save their so-called reputation in the high society.
Riana looked almost unrecognizable—not in appearance, but in her demeanour. She was sharper somehow, colder, her face a mask of aloof perfection as she talked with her fiancé. There was none of the warmth Nia remembered, none of the laughter they used to share late at night when they were kids, whispering secrets under the covers.
Nia forced herself to take a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she stepped forward. If Riana was aware of her presence, she didn't show it—not at first, at least.
