The Queen's Arrival
The party was already in full swing, the bass thrumming through the floor, the air buzzing with energy. Students in their finest outfits filled the venue, clusters of people chatting, laughing, and stealing glances toward the entrance. They all knew—the real show was yet to begin.
And then it happened.
The moment Kiya stepped toward the entrance, the atmosphere shifted.
She was a vision of power, dressed head to toe in the finest luxury brands. Her black sequin bodycon dress hugged her figure like it had been crafted just for her, shimmering under the golden party lights with every tiny movement. Gold embellishments traced along her curves like molten fire, commanding attention with every step. The unmistakable red soles of her Louboutin gold stilettos flashed dangerously against the marble floor, their rhythm a declaration of dominance.
A Chanel black clutch with gold accents rested in her hand, though it was more of an accessory than a necessity—she had an aura that said she had already won. Cartier diamond-studded earrings twinkled as she turned her head, her sleek high ponytail swaying like a whip of confidence.
And she wasn't alone.
Meera and Tasha flanked her, dressed impeccably but never outshining her. They moved in unison, their heels clicking in sync, their presence a backdrop to Kiya's undeniable radiance.
A ripple spread through the crowd.
"Is that Kiya?" someone whispered.
"She looks like she just walked off a Vogue cover."
"That dress must've cost a fortune."
But Kiya didn't acknowledge the whispers. She didn't need to.
She reached the entrance and paused, her gaze sweeping across the room like a queen surveying her court. A slow, knowing smirk curved her lips. With a flick of her wrist, she handed her clutch to Meera, as if even the weight of luxury was beneath her concern.
The DJ, sensing the shift in energy, switched the track instinctively. A sultry, powerful beat filled the air, something dramatic, something fitting.
And just like that, the party belonged to her.