Page 29 of Breaking the Annulment

“Why didn’t you wear the ring?” Gita asked, her tone casual but curious.

Aurelia hesitated, her fingers brushing the neckline of the gown. “I… wasn’t sure.”

Gita gave her a look but said nothing, her hands smoothing the fabric over Aurelia’s hips.

When she stepped out, the reps’ eyes lit up, and murmurs of approval followed. “That color is divine on you,” Elena murmured, circling her with an appraising eye. “Understated, but commanding. Perfect for a gala.”

Aurelia glanced at herself in the mirror. The champagne silk skimmed her curves, its subtle sheen catching the light.

“I’m not sure it’s my style,” Aurelia said, though her gaze lingered longingly on her reflection.

“It’s the kind of dress that makes an entrance,” Elena replied smoothly. “Perfect for the wife of a Giannopoulos.”

Aurelia turned slightly, watching the slit part just enough to reveal her leg. It was bold—too bold, perhaps—but undeniably the most beautiful dress she’d seen so far.

Gita clapped her hands softly from the side. “That one is truly stunning, ma’am. You look…”

“Perfect,” a low, familiar voice finished from the doorway.

Aurelia stood before the mirror in yet another gown, the crimson silk flowing over her curves like water. She turned slightly, watching the slit part just enough to reveal her leg. It was bold—too bold, perhaps—but undeniably beautiful.

Gita clapped her hands softly from the side. “That one is stunning, ma’am. You look…”

“Perfect,” a low, familiar voice finished from the doorway.

Aurelia’s heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat as she met Michalis’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. He stepped into the room, his tailored suit immaculate, his presence commanding. The air seemed to shift around him, charged with an electricity she couldn’t ignore.

“You’re back,” she said, her voice betraying none of the turmoil churning inside her.

His lips curved into a faint smile as he closed the distance between them. “I couldn’t miss this.”

Before she could respond, Michalis came up behind her, his large hands settling on her waist. His touch was firm but unhurried, sending a shiver up her spine as his fingers traced the curve of her hip. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, his lips brushing just beneath her ear.

“You’re beautiful,agápe mou,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Aurelia stiffened slightly, aware of the fashion reps and Gita hovering nearby. But when Michalis’s arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, her resolve faltered. The warmth of his body seeped through the thin fabric of the gown, and her pulse raced as his lips lingered against her skin, her eyelids almost too heavy to stay open.

“Michalis,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Turn around,” he commanded gently, his hands guiding her until she faced him. The fire in his eyes burned into hers, searching, demanding, as he tipped her chin up with a single finger. Then his mouth was on hers—firm, possessive, and utterly consuming.

The room around them seemed to vanish. Aurelia clutched at his lapels, torn between the urge to push him away and pull him closer. When he deepened the kiss, sliding one hand to the small of her back, her knees weakened, leaving her pliant in his arms.

By the time he pulled back, she was breathless, her lips tingling from the force of his kiss. Michalis reached into his pocket, retrieving the ring she had left behind in her room. Her eyes widened as he held it up, its brilliance dazzling under the overhead lights.

“Don’t forget this again,” he said, his tone soft but firm as he slid the ring onto her finger. His hand lingered, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I want everyone to know who you belong to, Mrs. Giannopoulos.”

Aurelia's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding as all eyes were drawn to the magnificent ring now resting heavily on her finger. It seemed to sparkle even more brilliantly than before, its facets catching the light and sending it dancing across the room, a tangible reminder of her new reality. The curious stares of the fashion representatives and Gita, who pretended to be engrossed in folding a garment bag, made her skin flush with heat. She was under a spotlight; every move and expression being closely observed. Her cheeks blazed with embarrassment, and she fought the urge to hide her hand behind her back. Michalis leaned in once more, his lips brushing hers in a whisper of a kiss. “You’re perfect,” he said again, his gaze locking onto hers before he straightened and stepped back. “Carry on.”

And with that, he turned and left, leaving Aurelia rooted to the spot, her pulse thrumming in her ears. The rest of the fitting passed in a haze, the seamstress's words barely registering as Aurelia's thoughts drifted to Michalis. His voice, low and commanding, still echoed in her ears, and the way he’d saidagápe mou—so possessively, yet with a tenderness that unsettled her—lingered like a brand. Her hands trembled as she adjusted the fabric of the next gown, but the seamstress seemed too engrossed in her work to notice.

What was she supposed to do now? The fortress of icy defiance she’d built around herself seemed to crack each time he looked at her like that, like she was more than a pawn in his world. Could she trust it, or was it just another thread in his web of control?

“A little tighter at the waist,” the seamstress murmured, fussing over the fit of the gown.

Aurelia nodded absently, the sting of the pins barely registering. She forced a polite smile when asked to turn this way or that, but her mind was elsewhere, cycling through the same unanswerable questions. Michalis had shown her a sideof himself she hadn’t expected, but the man she’d seen this afternoon wasn’t someone she could afford to believe in. Was he?

When the fitting finally ended, her steps faltered as she left the fitting room. The corridor leading to the master suite loomed ahead like a yawning chasm, her instincts warring with her resolve. She couldn't face him again—not yet. Not when her heart was still thrumming with confusion and something far more dangerous.

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