Emilie’s POV:

The morning sun filtered through the penthouse windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor. I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the fabric of the deep emerald gown Milo had chosen for me. It hugged my frame tightly, the neckline plunging just enough to make me feel exposed, yet the elegance of it was undeniable. Tonight, I wasn’t just Emilie, the girl who’d traded her freedom for her father’s life. Tonight, I was Milo Petrov’s wife, and he intended for ...