Selene was in her fiancé’s penthouse in London, wrapped in silk sheets, eating strawberries like she was the main character of the universe.

Her phone dinged.

Then dinged again.

Then again.

She frowned, picking it up lazily.

At first, she smiled — expecting Damian’s name.

But no.

It was her friend group chat: “Elite Babes”

And every message had the same energy.

“Selene have you seen the pictures?!”

“girl, Aria owned the stage”

“Mrs Cross carried first place for event , she looked so beautiful”

“Mrs Cross for a reason”

Selene’s smile cracked.

Her brows tightened.

She snapped upright, scrolling faster.

Then she saw the pictures.

Aria.

Golden beaded gown....