Megan’s POV

My hands trembled, gripping the red dress, tears staining my cheeks as the guest room door creaked open. I jumped, my heart pounding, expecting Alexander’s hungry eyes, his hands ready to grab me again.

Instead, a woman walked in, tall, with sleek black hair and a clipboard, her gaze sweeping over me like I was a problem to solve.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice shaky, wiping my tears quick, the dress still in my hands.

“Selena, your stylist,” she said, sharp, no ...