AMBER POV:
Who the hell is she?
Watching from across the room, I felt my blood simmer as Jason entered with her on his arm. She was cloaked in mystery, that ridiculous mask covering most of her face, but her dress—that dress—was unmistakable. It was a Francis original. I'd know his designs anywhere, with his signature style that practically shouted his name to anyone with an eye for fashion. Francis wasn't just some designer; he was the best, with gowns so exclusive he handpicked his clients.
How did she get her hands on one of his pieces? And why was Jason parading her around like that, with all those flashing lights and curious stares? This was supposed to be my night, my time to shine. I'd been planning everything perfectly, right down to the moment I'd finally corner him for that photo op.
Now, instead of the spotlight on me, all eyes were on her.
