The grand ballroom of the Williams Grand Hotel gleamed under a thousand lights. Crystal chandeliers scattered brilliance across the marble floor, where the city's most powerful gathered in gowns and tailored suits. Expensive perfume lingered in the air, blending with the rich scent of red wine and aged champagne.
And then, the music softened. Heads turned.
Aurora Williams entered.
She was radiant in a crimson gown that hugged her figure, the silk shimmering with every graceful step. Around her neck, diamonds caught the light like shards of frozen stars. Her golden hair was swept into a perfect chignon, revealing the delicate curve of her neck and the cold beauty of her features. Aurora did not need to demand attention—she commanded it by simply existing.
"The heiress of the Williams family…"
"The future queen of the city…"
"Magnificent…"
Whispers trailed after her, filled with envy and awe.
Aurora's lips curved into a practiced smile, red as roses. She had grown up beneath the weight of such gazes. Admiration was her birthright, jealousy her crown. This glittering world belonged to her—it always had, and always would.
A deep, steady voice spoke behind her.
"Once again, you've silenced an entire room, Aurora."
She turned, her sapphire eyes softening. Damien Blake approached—her fiancé, the man everyone called the perfect match.
In his sleek black tuxedo, Damien looked every bit the image of elegance. His chestnut hair was neatly styled, his sharp jaw accentuated by the confident smile he wore. Extending his hand, he bowed ever so slightly.
"May I have the honor, my lady?"
Aurora placed her hand into his, chin tilted in pride.
"And who," she asked, voice like velvet, "would ever dare refuse me tonight?"
Damien chuckled, brushing a kiss across her knuckles.
"No one. You are one of a kind."
Aurora did not correct him. To her, it was the simplest truth.
The orchestra swelled, and couples gathered upon the polished floor. Damien led Aurora to the center, and soon the two of them began to dance. Their movements were fluid, flawless, drawing every eye in the room. Her gown flared with each turn, a blaze of scarlet against the glittering gold of the ballroom.
"Do you realize?" Damien murmured close to her ear. "The entire city will one day be ours. Your future… is my future."
Aurora lifted her chin, her gaze alight with fierce pride.
"Of course. We were born to stand on top."
Damien tightened his hold on her hand, the faintest flicker of something unreadable in his eyes—something she did not notice.
Hours later, when the night was heavy with music and wine, Aurora stood before the crowd, a champagne flute raised high. The crystal chandeliers bathed her in a radiant glow, making her appear almost ethereal.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she declared, her voice confident, commanding. "Thank you for joining the Williams family tonight. This evening is but one of countless triumphs to come. And I promise you—our legacy will shine forever."
Applause thundered across the hall. Guests lifted their glasses, toasting her name, her family, her promise. Aurora breathed in deeply, savoring the taste of power and certainty. In this moment, she was untouchable.
Later, she slipped onto the rooftop balcony for a breath of fresh air. The night wind played with strands of her golden hair, carrying the faint fragrance of lavender from the planters along the terrace. Below, the city glittered like a jeweled crown laid out at her feet.
Aurora leaned against the marble railing, her smile slow, satisfied.
"This is my world," she whispered to herself. "And it will always belong to me."
A memory flickered, sudden and unbidden.
A little boy with dark hair, holding out a small box of strawberries with a shy grin.
"Try one, Aurora. They're sweet."
She remembered the way she had wrinkled her nose, brushing his hand away.
"Cheap fruit? That doesn't suit me."
The boy's face fell, but Aurora had turned away, unconcerned.
The recollection faded, swallowed by the hum of the city and the strains of music still drifting from the ballroom. Aurora laughed softly, dismissing it as a trivial echo of a distant childhood.
She had no idea that boy—Ethan Carter—had grown into a man with a quiet strength.
No idea that one day, when her empire of glass shattered, he would be the one waiting on the other side.