It was the day of the Whispers of Silk fashion show.
The entire venue buzzed with life. Outside, flashing lights exploded like fireworks as reporters and photographers jostled for the perfect shot of every celebrity who walked down the shimmering velvet carpet.
Alisha arrived in a silky satin gown the shade of deep ocean blue. The fabric clung to her curves, flowing like liquid light as she moved. Tonight's dress code had been sent to every guest beforehand; something that whispers silk. It was meant to embody the name of the show itself, and Alisha wasn't about to break the rule. Respect for the designer demanded respect for the theme.
The moment she stepped out of the sleek black car, the camera shutters erupted. White lights blinded her, exploding across her vision in rapid succession, but she did not flinch. She straightened her posture, tilted her chin just slightly upward, and smiled with the poise of someone who had been born for this.
This wasn't Sirena Couture.
