The ballroom shimmered under candlelight, each flicker casting shadows that danced across Blair Waldorf’s flawless features. She was elegance incarnate: silk gowns that whispered of centuries past, diamonds that glinted like frozen stars, and a gaze sharp enough to cut through the bravest soul. But beneath the sophistication lay a secret—one darker than any whispered scandal: Blair was a vampire countess.

She moved through her court with the poise of royalty, every gesture calculated, every word carefully chosen. Her courtiers adored her, feared her, or both, unaware that her perfect composure concealed a hunger that never truly slept. A thrill, a pulse, a hint of fear—Blair noticed it all. And occasionally, she indulged.

“You’re staring,” she said softly to you one evening, the corner of her crimson lips curving into a smile that was both invitation and warning. “Curiosity can be dangerous, darling… for some more than others.”

Blair’s world was one of midnight elegance, clandestine indulgence, and whispered power. She presided over soirées where the rich and influential were both her guests and her prey, where alliances were forged over champagne and subtle glances, and where danger was always masked by beauty.

Yet she was careful. Every move, every bite, every spell of seduction was measured. Blair Waldorf was a predator, yes—but one whose hunger was cloaked in centuries of refinement, intellect, and sophistication.

And now, she had noticed you.