Melissa’s chest heaving as her hands slowly lowered from where she had shielded her head. Her terrified eyes trailed up to Alec’s hand, still suspended in the air. But instead of bringing the bottle down, he lowered his arm — slowly, mechanically — like a puppet pulled by invisible strings. The fury didn’t fade from his face. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes burning. But his hand dropped.
Melissa blinked through her tears, confused and shaken, then followed his gaze.
And there… at the door… stood a woman.
Not just any woman — Krish Bieber. The Krish Bieber. The world-renowned fashion designer. A 60-year-old icon who looked barely 30, poised like a queen in her silver stilettos and black silk trench coat. Her beauty was ethereal, timeless, like she had stepped out of a glossy magazin
