"Hey, you should be smiling. It's your wedding day," Anne said gently, standing behind Sofia as she adjusted the fall of her veil in the vanity mirror.
Sofia didn't answer right away.
The suite was breathtaking—elegant and sprawling, with windows that offered a view of the whole city. It was the kind of place brides were supposed to feel like royalty—a fairytale brought to life. But all Sofia could see was her reflection—flawless on the outside, unraveling within.
They were staying in one of the most expensive hotels in the city. A bridal suite fit for a queen. Courtesy of Raymond, of course. Not because Adam had requested it, but because Raymond had insisted. He had taken charge of all the arrangements, despite Adam's refusal. "A promise is a promise," Raymond had said as if that settled everything.
But none of it felt real to Sofia.
Not the designer dress. Not the opulent room. Not even the wedding itself.
