GALLAHAN’S POV
With hands that were still trembling with barely contained anger, I fastened the last button of my waistcoat. Then I slipped my arms into the sleeves of my ceremonial robe, which was light blue around my shoulders and midnight blue around my forearms and legs.
With tiny diamonds studded all over the darkest shade of blue, I f*****g felt like I was halfway into becoming a replica of that gaudy-looking Prince Bubba of Agvanda.
“Looking good!” Maliya, who was already donning a silky yellow robe over a long white dress, complimented me chirpily, trying to get me to lighten up.
But I was so wound up with my emotions that any attempt made only irked me further.
So her compliment went ignored.
I looked away from the full-length mirror, still wearing a scowl as if it had been
