Page 28 of Breaking the Annulment

Finally setting the ring aside, she forced herself to eat; but even the perfectly balanced meal couldn’t distract her from the turmoil roiling inside her.

Shaking the thought away, she slipped out of the bath, wrapped a towel snugly around herself, and crossed to the wardrobe where her formal dress hung. She pulled it free, holding the dark fabric against herself as she stood before the mirror. The full-length gown skimmed the floor, elegant and far too formal for staying around the house.

Her eyes narrowed as a spark of rebellion flickered to life.

Stepping into the hallway, she spotted Gita emerging from another room, balancing a basket of linens on one hip. “Gita,” Aurelia called, holding up the dress. “Do you have a needle andthread I could borrow? And some scissors? I want to shorten my dress.”

Gita’s dark brows lifted as her gaze fell on the altered hem. “You want to alter it yourself, ma’am?”

Aurelia shrugged. “Why not? It’s just a quick fix.”

Gita set the basket down, her smile softening. “I’ll have the staff handle it. They’re much faster.”

“Oh, I don’t mind?—”

“Please,” Gita interrupted gently, holding out her hands. “I’ll make sure it’s ready before you’re done with your hair and toiletries.”

Aurelia hesitated, then handed over the dress. “All right,” she conceded with a small smile. “I’m sure you’re right. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, ma’am,” Gita said, her voice warm. “I’ll be back shortly.”

True to her word, Gita returned with the dress a few short minutes later. Whoever the seamstress was, they’d worked miracles. Aurelia ventured downstairs in the shortened dress, the sound of activity filling the villa. Staff members bustled in and out, carrying packages up the stairs. She stood in the hallway, watching the constant stream with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

The first fashion representative was shown in just after lunch. A woman with sleek, dark hair and a tailored suit stepped into the room where Aurelia waited, her demeanor polished and professional. She entered with the grace of someone who belonged wherever she went, gesturing for several assistants to follow her with armloads of garment bags in tow.

“Mrs. Giannopoulos,” she said warmly, her gaze flicking briefly to where a diamond ring should have been resting on Aurelia’s finger, her smile faltering as her confidence was undermined by confusion.

“Yes, that would be me, I guess.” Aurelia stood awkwardly. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you,” she recovered quickly, her voice smooth and professional, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Elena, from the Parisian atelier. We wanted to ensure your satisfaction with the pieces you selected.”

Aurelia blinked, caught off guard. “I… didn’t expect so many people to come in person.”

“We brought a selection of evening gowns based on the styles you purchased and Mr. Giannopoulos’s approval,” Elena said, unzipping the first bag. She drew out a midnight blue gown that shimmered under the light, the fabric flowing like water. “This one is exquisite for formal occasions, and it pairs beautifully with platinum accessories.”

Aurelia flushed as Elena’s eyes darted to her ringless finger again. Would Michalis instruct the woman to match Aurelia’s ring? Which would be the accessory? The ring or the dress?

Before she could respond, Elena had draped the gown over a chair and moved on to the next bag. “This one,” she said, holding up a sleek black dress with intricate beading along the neckline, “is timeless. It would be perfect for hosting an elegant dinner or attending a charity gala.”

Aurelia reached out to touch the fabric, the beads cool and smooth beneath her fingers. “It’s… beautiful,” she murmured, the words escaping before she could stop them.

“Shall we try it on?” Elena asked, already gesturing toward the nearest mirror.

Moments later, Aurelia stood in the black gown, its fitted silhouette hugging her curves. She turned slowly, watching the way the light caught the beading. The woman in the mirror looked polished, powerful, and unmistakably part of Michalis’s world. It was elegant, certainly, but she felt like she was playingdress-up—pretending to be someone she wasn’t sure she wanted to become.

“Gorgeous,” Elena said, clapping her hands softly. “And with the right heels…” She crouched to pull out a pair of stilettos from another bag, their glossy red soles flashing as she set them at Aurelia’s feet.

The assistant returned with more garment bags, and Elena was already unzipping another. This time, the dress was crimson, with a daring neckline and a slit that left little to the imagination. Aurelia hesitated, heat rising to her cheeks. “Isn’t that a bit… bold?”

Elena’s brow arched. “Confidence is its own elegance. Trust me, Mrs. Giannopoulos, this dress was made for you.”

Another assistant stepped forward, holding a soft, champagne-colored gown over her arm. “We’ve brought many selections from our atelier that we think will suit you perfectly.”

Aurelia nodded, her fingers brushing the delicate fabric as the woman handed her the gown. It felt impossibly light, the silk cascading like water between her hands. As she slipped behind the screen to change, Gita followed, helping her into the dress.

“You look nervous, ma’am,” Gita said softly, her fingers adjusting the zipper. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Aurelia replied, though her voice wavered. Her hand instinctively went to her bare finger, where the ring was becoming conspicuously absent. A ring she’d only had for a few hours. What was wrong with her? “It’s just… a lot.”

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