Chapter 419 Crashing The Party

• The next morning, Stephanie strode down the sidewalk in tailored slacks and a slim-cut jacket, the brim of her newsboy cap tugged low by two careless fingers. The shadow hid everything but the porcelain slice of her jaw, sharp as a sculptor's chisel.
• Under the streetlamps' amber wash, she looked impossibly composed—an androgynous storm of grace and danger that pulled every stray glance the way a magnet drags iron filings.
• No matter what she puts on, she steals the whole sky, Thomas thought, awestruck yet again by the Netherlord's effortless brilliance.