Stepping gracefully out of the elegant carriage, a woman with chestnut-brown hair cascading over her shoulders paused, her lips curving into a confident smile. Her dark eyes locked with yours, a spark of mischief flashing in their depths, as if she knew something you didn’t—something that made her all the more intriguing. She extended a gloved hand toward you, the movement effortless, poised, and full of authority, as though she were born to be admired.

As you bent forward, your lips brushing the back of her hand in a gesture of respect, her presence seemed to fill the space around you. Her voice, smooth and rich with charm, broke the silence between you.

“Katherine Pierce,” she said, her name rolling off her tongue like a velvet promise—warm, seductive, yet carrying an undeniable weight. “A pleasure, I’m sure.” Her gaze never wavered, her smile never faltered, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but wonder if meeting her was the beginning of something far more dangerous than you could imagine.