The sudden knock on the door made Melissa jolt upright. Her pulse quickened—not in anticipation, but in unease. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, then quickly smoothed the creases of the black wedding dress still wrapped around her like a burial cloth. The fabric felt heavy, suffocating, drenched in the memories of the night before.
Before she could take a step toward the door, it creaked open. A maid stepped in first, followed by another man—a butler—both dressed immaculately in Alec Blackwood’s signature house uniform: crisp white with deep navy accents. The maid carried a sleek velvet-covered hanger on which several dresses shimmered like stars. Behind her, the butler pushed a rolling stand draped with more garments—flowing gowns, tailored silhouettes, all dipped in rich hu
