. . . Serene’s POV The mirror in my room reflected a vision I barely recognized. The black dress hugged my curves like a second skin, its high neckline lending an air of elegance while the fit and tight skirt accentuated my delicate frame. My dark hair cascaded in soft waves, and a touch of makeup highlighted my wide, nervous eyes. For a second, I could not tell if it was really me. Dressed in such luxury. I could say I looked beautiful—stunning, even—but the sight only tightened the knot in my stomach. I was not getting dressed for myself. It was an order. This wasn’t my choice; Nicholas Volkov had ordered me to dress for a dinner, and the weight of his command pressed down on me like a storm cloud. I gently smoothed the dress with trembling hands, my heart racing as I prepared to

