She was Selena Whitlock, no longer Ming Yue, and she was no one's victim.
Not anymore.
Selena's bravado fizzled out the moment the heavy doors of the banquet hall shut behind her. The sharp clicks of her heels against the polished marble were replaced by the muted thud of the carriage wheels as they rolled over cobblestone streets.
Sitting inside, she could no longer hold her head high, nor could she maintain the mask of cool confidence she had worn throughout the evening.
Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she could feel the heat spreading down her neck. Her heart raced as the reality of what she had done sank in. What was I thinking?
This was not her! She was not this person! Confident? No! She used to pray she was invisible in her past life hoping that no one would notice her!