The Monster at My Feet novel Chapter 3

It was like the first radiant beam of moonlight breaking the horizon—silk and tulle shimmering with the softness of clouds and a starry sky, the skirt lightly dusted with crushed diamonds.

A dress made of pure moonlight hung quietly at the very back of the rack.-

It wasn't a sweeping gown, but a slightly flared cocktail skirt woven with subtle silver rose patterns. It was the absolute pinnacle of luxury.

Wow.

Sylvie carefully pulled it out, feeling as though she were holding a galaxy in her hands.

It was breathtaking.

A dress that matched her aesthetic perfectly had miraculously appeared in her closet. It definitely hadn't been there yesterday.

Nobody in this house would ever gift her something like this—

Frankly, she knew they didn't have the wealth or the taste for it.

Even without an extensive knowledge of haute couture, Sylvie could tell this single piece was likely worth more than Lydia's entire wardrobe combined.

She blinked, her mind racing. Stepping toward the window, she abruptly yanked back the curtains!

In that split second, she felt a burning gaze seared into her skin.

It vanished instantly. Almost like an illusion.

It was pitch black outside. Nothing. It was a high-end neighborhood with plenty of distance between the manors, and the ground below was a dense thicket of trees and shrubs. There was no moon tonight.

Dead silence.

She pulled her gaze away, her eyes curving into a delighted smile. She hugged the dress close, looking like a picture of absolute innocence, completely unfazed by the creepy anomaly.

"So pretty~"

She couldn't wait to try it on.

With her back to the window, she crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her shirt, and lifted it without warning—

Exposing a stretch of flawless, luminous waist.

A sudden rustle echoed from the bushes outside.

The girl paused, leaving her shirt on, and glanced toward the glass in confusion.

It was just a stray cat bursting out from the shrubbery, sprinting away into the night.

The prickly sensation on her back vanished.

Still facing away from the window, the young girl narrowed her eyes, a sharp smirk pulling at her lips.

She took her time changing.

The moment she slipped the dress on, she froze.

This piece was practically made for her.

Every single inch was tailored to perfection, as if someone had meticulously measured her exact proportions.

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