Krissan Jarrett stood before the mirror in her chambers, her reflection a study in determination and calculation. The events of recent days had left her shaken but resolute—a simmering anger fueling her resolve to turn the tables on Deyonjay Stone.
With meticulous care, she selected a gown of midnight blue—a stark contrast to the crimson hues she had worn before. The fabric cascaded in shimmering folds around her, a cloak of sophistication masking the fire burning within.
As she adorned herself with jewels and adorned her hair with intricate braids, Krissan’s mind raced with plans and strategies. Deyonjay had played his games with a mastery that bordered on cruelty, but she was determined to prove herself a match for his cunning.
Marcus’s words echoed in her thoughts—hints of vulnerabil
