Annabelle Linton put on her dress and stood before the mirror, tidying her hair. Once she was satisfied with her reflection, she strode out of the hospital room.
Leona Grant watched Annabelle Linton, his gaze fiery.
Undressed, she was alluring; dressed, she was coldly stunning.
To be sure, Annabelle Linton's face wasn't what one would call devastatingly beautiful, but she was by no means plain.
At the very least, many people couldn't achieve such results even with plastic surgery.
A person's beauty is a combination of their outer and inner selves. The reason Annabelle Linton's beauty hadn't shone through before was because she lacked a certain aura.
An aura that sparked desire.
But now, she embodied both cold arrogance and stunning beauty. A single glance was enough to ignite a man's desire to conquer her.
'How could such a perfect woman exist in this world?'
The sound of the door closing made Leona Grant realize Annabelle Linton had left.
