She’s danger wrapped in citrus, mysterious and fiercely feminine.

She doesn’t announce herself—she arrives like dusk, all shadowed silk and stolen glances. Lady Valencia is elegance dipped in secrecy, a whisper against your neck that leaves you wondering if it ever happened.

Beneath her dark chocolate armor flows a ribbon of blood orange caramel—tangy, smooth, and impossibly alluring. It’s not the kind of sweetness that begs. It seduces. It lingers. It leaves you questioning your loyalties.

She’s not here to charm you. She’s here to haunt you.