Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Miranda was livid with anger. She glanced at Jerome unwittingly; seeing him unfazed, she relaxed slightly and snapped her head towards Rachel, barking, “Cut the crap. Jay wouldn’t give the time of day to that kind of girl.”

Rachel let out a scornful laugh. That kind of girl? That kind of girl who, despite everything, seemed to charm every man in sight, even if it was just for a shot at warming her bed.

At the boarding gate, James handed Quintessa a thick envelope, “Ms. Young, this is from Mr. York, for your services that evening.”

Quintessa peeked inside to find it stuffed with crisp greenbacks. She chuckled bitterly, “So the man’s conscience hasn’t been entirely devoured by wolves.”

“I should get going. Safe travels, Ms. Young.”

“Hold up. Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

Quintessa pulled out her lipstick and compact, freshening up her makeup before plucking a brand–new bill from the envelope. She left a bright red kiss mark on it, “Give this to your boss as his tip, and let him know I was less than impressed with his performance that

night.”

James felt as if the lipstick–stained bill was a ticking time bomb – whether to take it or leave it was a dilemma. In the end, Quintessa stuffed the bill into his pocket.

As the plane took off, Quintessa cast one last look at the cityscape below. She needed to remember this place, the two–faced people she’d leave behind, a constant reminder that her revenge was still a

debt unpaid.

The aircraft pierced the clouds, and Quintessa turned away. Catching sight of the envelope peeking out of her bag, she smirked coldly. Everyone labeled Quintessa the homewrecker, as if she had stolen their men. Yet, the truth was, she had slept with only. one man, Tyrone, and even that had been part of his own calculated pursuit.

A chillingly beautiful smile curled on her lips. No matter. She had ignited his fury, and in time, on her terms, she’d do as they feared and lure away all their men.

Two hours later, James presented the hundred–dollar bill to Tyrone, “Mr. York, this is from Ms. Quintessa Young.”

After hesitating, James relayed Quintessa’s message word for word.

The bill, emblazoned with that red kiss in the center, brought back memories. Those lips, recently his to kiss soft, fragrant, sweet – could stir the deepest desires in a man.

But now, Tyrone swore if she were in front of him, he’d bite those lips until they bled.

Three years later.

14:161

At Emberbrook Airport, T2 was bustling with activity as passengers from the Serenitia to Emberbrook flight made their way through.

A woman with long, seaweed–like hair cascaded down her back, swayed with each step she took. Oversized sunglasses concealed half of her face, but the bold red lips beneath stood out, alluring and

vivid. The click–clack of her stiletto heels echoed like a drumbeat against the heart, and she donned a trench coat straight from the latest fashion week – a piece that somehow looked even better on her than on the runway models. She exuded a sultry air mixed with chic confidence, as mesmerizing as a gem amongst pebbles, dazzling and full of grace.

Passersby couldn’t help but sneak photos with their phones. Whispers fluttered among

them.

“Is she a celebrity? She’s got that superstar aura.”

“She looks familiar. Maybe she’s returning from abroad?”