🤍 SOFIA’S POV
Dominic walks beside me down the wide staircase, his hand warm and steady at my elbow, guiding me slow and sure. I still move a little like I’m waiting for the floor to vanish under my feet — still half‑expecting to wake back up in that cold bedsit, hungry and alone, all of this just another dream my mind made up to get through the night. But his touch is real. The soft fabric of my new dress — soft, simple, deep navy that fits properly for the first time ever — feels real. The smell of warm bread, coffee, and rich cooking drifting up from below is real.
When we step into the grand dining room, I pause for a breath, eyes widening. It’s huge — high ceilings, carved wood, a table long enough to seat twenty, polished until it glows like dark water. Crystal glasses, silver cutl
