Once she identified the scent as Lucian’s, the knot of tension in Selena’s chest finally loosened—only to be replaced by a different kind of irritation.
She didn’t bother acknowledging him. With a deft movement, she kicked the discarded gown aside and reached into the wardrobe. Her fingers brushed through the hanging garments, selecting her next outfit with a familiarity born of blindness and habit.
Outside the dressing room, the sounds of the styling teams faded as they gathered their cases. Footsteps converged toward the hallway. A staff member called out politely through the door, "Miss Selena, we’re heading down now."
Selena gave a casual affirmative.
Inside, however, her pulse quickened. If the staff left, she would be left alone to handle Adrian—a prospect that sat heavy in her s
