Ayla's POV
By the time I finished dressing I had convinced myself I was either making the biggest mistake of my professional life or the greatest entrance Solaria Manhattan had ever witnessed.
I stepped in front of the mirror and almost did not recognize myself.
The dress hugged every right place. It looked elegant and expensive and it shimmered softly in a way that felt almost sinful.
"Definitely eye catching," I whispered to myself, taking one more slow glance.
Mira had screamed for seven full seconds on FaceTime when she saw me.
I did not blame her.
I looked like a celebrity secretly moonlighting as a corporate assistant.
I took a deep breath, grabbed my bag, put on a pair of Mira's expensive sunglasses I borrowed without asking, sprayed one of her cheap but rich smelling perfumes she always buys, and stepped out in heels with confidence high enough to touch the ozone layer.
From the moment I left the house to when I boarded my taxi every head turned.
Every eye lingered.
