Gianna Dior Pov [portable] -

I lean forward, tracing the edge of my lip with the tip of a brush, steady as a surgeon. In the reflection, my eyes are already doing the work—that half-lidded, I-know-something-you-don’t gaze that built my name. But tonight, the secret isn’t a script. It’s the silence in the room.

I untie the robe. Let it slide down my arms like a curtain rising.

The makeup mirror is a ring of unforgiving light, but I’ve made peace with it. It doesn’t lie, and neither do I. Not anymore.

And I step into the frame like I own it.