The sharp clicks of heels echoed through the hallway, Madam Quinn turned, her face stiffening at the sight of the woman descending the stairs.
Dressed in black that hugged her figure perfectly, Snow Jiang looked like a masterpiece carved from frost, cold, untouchable, and dazzling under the chandelier's light.
Madam Quinn swore she saw a murderous glint in her eyes, and her presence was bloodthirsty, but looking back at Snow Jiang again who had a warm naive smile, she couldn't help but question if she had seen wrong.
Old Madam Quinn cleared her throat, her eyes lingered on the young lady descending the stairs for a second too long.
She knew deep down, Snow Jiang wasn't who she claimed to be, and she had a gut feeling that she didn't approach them with a kind heart. But she wasn't sure, to her, it was best to keep her close.
