Selene walked into the bridal store like a storm in heels.

“Good afternoon, Miss—”

“I’m the bride,” Selene snapped. “Where’s my gown?”

The consultant blinked. “Y-yes ma’am. Right this way.”

Selene yanked her phone out as she walked.

No answer.

She scoffed. “Of course.”

Inside the fitting room, three stylists surrounded her, lifting layers of white satin like she was royalty.

“This is the custom Italian silk—”

“I don’t care where it’s from,” Selene cut in. “Just make sure it fits perfectly.”

They helped her into the gown.

She looked at herself in the mirror.

Beautiful.

Elegant.

Expensive.

And still… irritated.

“Ma’am, you look stunning,” one stylist said carefully.

Selene...