#Chapter 132: The Dress Theft

Aurora POV I smooth my palms over the soft silk of my robe and try to ground myself, feeling the cool fabric glide beneath my fingertips as Gianna fusses with my hair. We stand in the master bedroom of the old Victorian house Dominic rented for the ceremony, its high ceilings and ornate moldings making everything feel suspended in time. Light pours through tall windows, soft and diffused, catching the dust motes floating lazily in the air. The whole room smells faintly of old wood, lavender polish, and fresh garden roses from the grounds below. I catch my reflection in the antique mirror and I barely recognize myself. Not because of the makeup or the hair or the white dress hanging behind me from the amoir door, but because this moment feels unreal, almost too beautiful, too tender for the world I come from and from what I imagined would be my fate. I flash back to the ugly, impersonal gown bought for me when I was marrying Leonardo and feel so grateful that I