Chapter 248 - 247: Spotting Monica
Just then, he casually turned—and froze.
Across the garden, half-concealed by swaying lantern-lit foliage and a sea of murmuring elites, weaving through the crowd with effortless grace, he spotted her.
Monica.
She walked along the far edge of the garden, her steps unhurried but purposeful, as though the crowd parted for her rather than the other way around. Her poise was ethereal—elegant and serene—cutting through the chatter and clinking glasses like a moonbeam slicing through mist. The gentle breeze tugged at the hem of her ivory gown, catching the fabric just enough to make her seem like she floated, not walked.
Even among the extravagantly dressed guests, each trying to outshine the other, she stood out without effort. Every movement, every glance, carried the quiet confidence of someone used to being watched—but never touched.
Stunning. Untouchable.
Honestly, it was his first time seeing her in person—outside of the online news feeds that were practically bombarded with her face—and he had to admit, she more than lived up to the hype. Monica truly did match her status as the industry’s new diva. That quiet confidence, the graceful composure, the almost ethereal poise... it was something else entirely.
Lena was stunning too—undeniably so—but Monica felt different. Lena had the sharp allure of a rising star, fierce and magnetic, but Monica... Monica was already there. She carried herself like someone who had already touched the summit. More aloof, more refined, as if fame hadn’t shaped her but simply revealed her.
She had honey-blonde hair that caught the garden lights like spun gold, and eyes so dark they were almost black—calm, unreadable, but piercing. Her features were delicate: a small, cute nose, naturally thin lips with a sherry hue—none of the overfilled, artificial look so common in Hollywood. Her beauty was timeless.
And her body... elegant, yet undeniably sensual. Every curve seemed perfectly balanced, sculpted with care. A graceful neck, a narrow waist, and long legs that looked like they’d stepped out of a dream, and her legs—long, sculptural, almost surreal—as if carved from some ancient artist’s vision of beauty.