The Poisonous Roots of Power

Her raven hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, swaying hypnotically with each step. Her bright green eyes shone like polished emeralds, radiating a fierce inner light. 

Her skin, a delicate porcelain, seemed almost translucent in its clarity, as if lit from within by a soft, ethereal glow.

She wore a sleek black silk dress that hugged her curves like a whispered secret, its fluid fabric draping her body like a dark, liquid shadow. 

A delicate diamond necklace encircled her neck, its facets flashing with a fiery intensity that seemed to pulse in time with her very heartbeat. 

Her full lips were painted a deep, bold crimson, a shade that echoed the rich, velvety darkness of spilled blood.

Her gaze swept the room, lingering on David with a fleeting glint of hostility before locking onto Martin with an unnerving intensity.