Today was the jewelry convention. Gianna stood before the full-length mirror in her room, perfectly still, as if moving too quickly might disrupt the moment.
Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, brushing her reflection with a soft glow, and for a heartbeat she simply looked at herself—not critically, not doubtfully, but with a quiet kind of recognition.
She was dressed to the nines.
Her tailored ivory suit hugged her frame with deliberate precision, the blazer cinched subtly at the waist, the trousers falling clean and elegant over her hips before tapering down her legs.
Beneath it, a silk blouse in a muted champagne shade caught the light every time she breathed, smooth and understated, expensive without shouting.
Around her neck lay one of her own creations—a statement necklace, bold yet refined, interlocking gold curves cradling a deep emerald centerpiece. It rested just above her collarbone, commanding attention without begging for it.
