Before the princess could take a single step, the soft, near-silent chime of a private lift echoed from the far side of the lobby.
A set of seamless, unmarked doors slid open, revealing a woman who commanded the entire space without saying a word.
One look at her and one would say that she was the very picture of corporate power and timeless elegance.
Her sharp, silver-streaked hair was cut in a severe, impeccable bob that framed a face of sharp cheekbones and intelligent, calculating eyes. She wore a sheath dress of deep charcoal gray.
The dress was a masterpiece of tailoring, pouring over a figure that was all confident, commanding curves. It traced the generous swell of her full chest and the dramatic narrowness of her waist before clinging to the powerful flare of her hips. It was a statement of wealth and authority, accentuating a figure that was not just attractive, but powerful and utterly in control. This was Cassia Stellan.
