Elena’s POV
I thought embarrassment would feel heavier. That it would hang over my shoulders like wet wool, drag at my every breath, stain everything I touched. But instead, it was a white-hot flare in my chest, sharper than shame, closer to fury.
After everything that happened, after years clawing my way back from darkness, from blindness, from trust splintered by people who swore they loved me, here it was again, more men deciding how the world should see me. Nathan, Charles, faceless editors who twisted old snapshots into knives and I was done cowering.
When Adrian came home that evening, shrugging off his coat, the air still clinging to him cold and sharp from the night, he found me standing by the mirror in the foyer, smoothing my dress down over my hips. I’d chosen deep emerald sa
