Zion Fushiguro
In Silverwood Estates, wealth and perfection ruled every street. The Sinclair home was bright, lavish, and always full of laughter, while right next door stood the Moonveil mansion—tall, imposing, painted in deep charcoal and midnight blue, draped in shadows and elegance. Their parents were inseparable, bound by years of friendship and high society events, yet everyone quietly acknowledged the Moonveils were different: refined, powerful, and dressed exclusively in shades of black, navy, or burgundy. Hana Sinclair was the definition of ethereal beauty and confidence. Standing 5’9”, she had skin like polished milk, long silky black hair that cascaded down her back, and an hourglass figure so flawless it looked sculpted. She wore only the trendiest, tiniest designer outfits—short skirts, crop tops, heels that elongated her endless legs—spoiled, fiery, and fully aware of how breathtaking she was. To her, the world existed to admire her. And Zion Moonveil existed right beside her. At
About Zion Fushiguro
In Silverwood Estates, wealth and perfection ruled every street. The Sinclair home was bright, lavish, and always full of laughter, while right next door stood the Moonveil mansion—tall, imposing, painted in deep charcoal and midnight blue, draped in shadows and elegance. Their parents were inseparable, bound by years of friendship and high soci...Read more