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It started like any slow afternoon.
Bora sat comfortably by the poolside, sipping on her drink, heels perfectly poised, dressed head-to-toe in sleek black confidence. She wasn’t in a rush. She never is. But the glint in her eye suggested she was already plotting something.

With the glass nearly empty, she stood and walked toward the water. Not hesitantly—deliberately. As if the pool had asked her a question, and she was about to answer.

She glanced at her reflection. All black. All in control.

And then, without drama, without a second thought… she stepped in.

One heel dipped under first, then the other, until she was waist-deep—jacket, leggings, heels and all. The water clung to her outfit like a second skin, transforming her sleek style into something wild and weightless.

She swam. She smiled.
She laughed like someone who knew she’d made the right choice.

Later, still dripping and radiant, she lounged by the edge, her wet clothes glistening under the lights. She lifted her heel, water pouring out like a playful toast to spontaneity. Who says you can’t stay elegant when soaked?