Separated by the crowd and a half-hidden, carved screen, in a dimly lit corner, Celia Sterling couldn't quite make out Silas Norwood's face.
But some people possess such a unique aura that you can recognize them from a distance.
Kian Sterling followed her gaze and teased, "What, you've taken a liking to that 'unattainable flower'?"
"No." Celia Sterling's eyes fell on Silas Norwood's minimalist white shirt. He stood amidst the bustling crowd, yet he exuded a cool, detached, almost ascetic air, as if untouched by the mortal world.
'But the man I'm looking for was wearing a dark purple shirt, almost black.'
'Or maybe it was a vibrant, galaxy-purple like the one Kian is wearing. The hallway lights outside the dressing room were dim, so it would be normal for my eyes to play tricks on me.'
'But no matter how bad the lighting was, could purple really look white?'
Celia Sterling quickly looked away, her bright eyes continuing to scan the room.
