Elise Wright had always imagined that the morning of her wedding would feel like a dream.
Soft light would pour through the windows. Her mother would fuss over the veil. Her father would pretend not to cry. And somewhere, just beyond the doors, Adrian would be waiting for her—steady, certain, and hers.
Instead, the room felt like a cage.
The bridal suite was too quiet. The air was thick with tension, like the calm before a storm that had already decided to destroy everything in its path.
“Elise, hold still.”
Her mother’s voice broke the silence, sharp and impatient as she adjusted the delicate lace along Elise’s shoulder. The touch was not gentle. It never had been.
Elise forced a small smile, though unease coiled tightly in her chest. “You’ve already fixed it three times.”
“It has to be perfect,” her mother replied without looking at her.
Perfect.
The word lingered, hollow.
Elise glanced at the mirror. The woman staring back at her looked flawless—her gown tailored to perfection, her makeup soft and elegant, her hair swept into a style she had spent weeks choosing.
She should have felt happy.
Instead, something felt wrong.
Her gaze shifted, catching the reflection of the others in the room.
Her father stood near the door, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t checking his watch or making nervous jokes like she had expected. He looked… still.
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