Amelia emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair falling around her shoulders as she wrapped a towel tightly around herself. She caught sight of the maid standing in her doorway, holding up a delicate garment bag.
"Mr. Dawson asked me to bring this for you," the maid said with a polite smile.
"Thank you," Amelia murmured, taking the bag. She waited until the maid left before unzipping it, revealing a breathtaking dress inside. The fabric shimmered as if touched by starlight, and the scent of expensive perfume wafted up, a subtle yet intoxicating fragrance.
She ran her fingers over the soft material, her heart skipping a beat. This wasn't just a dress—it was a statement, a reminder of the life Dawson lived and the stark difference between his world and hers.
Amelia dressed carefully, her movements slow and deliberate as she admired how the gown hugged her frame. She stood in front of the mirror, turning slightly to see the way the light caught the fabric.
