The velvet curtains of the Royal Albert Hall didn’t just muffle the sound of the London rain; they held back the suffocating weight of a crown Hallie Thorne never asked for.
She stood in the wings, the lace of her couture gown scratching against her collarbone like a gilded leash. To the world, she was the "Thorne Princess"—the pristine, silent daughter of a dynasty built on old money and even older secrets. To Ransom Lockwood, she was just a problem to be solved. Thorne Princess by L.J. Shen
Ransom reached out, his thumb grazing the pulse jumping in her neck. His touch was lightning—dangerous and grounding all at once. He was the man her father hired to keep her in line, the silent shadow meant to protect her reputation. But in the dark, he was the only one who saw the cracks in her porcelain mask. The velvet curtains of the Royal Albert Hall
"It’s fear," he corrected, stepping into her space. The scent of rain and expensive bourbon followed him. "You’re terrified they’ll see you’re not the doll they painted. That you’ve got teeth." To Ransom Lockwood, she was just a problem to be solved