Elena's POV

When Stella yanked the curtain open, I had just finished smoothing down the skirt of the white dress.

The fabric fell in clean, understated lines, skimming my figure without excess embellishment. It was simple, almost severe, but under the boutique’s crystal lighting it seemed to glow faintly.

I turned...

And found Stella standing there.

Shock was written plainly across her face.

For once, she forgot to manage her expression.

“Miss Song,” I said evenly, my tone ...