In Her Shadow

"Do I look good, Kaelen?" Valeria spun in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the center of the upscale bridal shop. Her face flushed with triumph. She had straightened her curls today.

The hairstyle hit Kaelen like a physical blow. It reminded him of Sloane. When they first married, Sloane used to smile at him with that exact bright, effortless warmth. Over their three-year marriage, those smiles had faded into cold silence.

His thoughts drifted to the stark contrast of his own wedding to Sloane. There had been no lavish gown and no ceremony. He had treated the whole affair with casual indifference. Sloane had even gone to get the marriage certificate all alone.

"Kaelen, am I beautiful?" Valeria closed the distance between them, pulling him from his reverie.

He offered a faint, detached smile. "Yes."

Satisfied, Valeria pinched the fabric at her waist. She shot a sharp glare at the designer standing nearby. "It is far too loose right here. It does not show off my figure at all. Tighten it."

The panicked designer fidgeted with her measuring tape, her face pale. "I am sorry. Our gowns are custom-made three months in advance. This dress was purchased for a fuller-figured customer and cannot be adjusted in time for your date."

Valeria's sweet demeanor abruptly shifted into sheer entitlement. "So, you are saying this is my fault?"

"No, you misunderstood me." The designer stammered out a stream of frantic apologies.

Kaelen rubbed his temple. "Since this will not do, just choose another one."

"We have a piece that fits you perfectly, Miss Rossi." The designer scrambled to offer a solution.

Valeria sneered at the staff member. "I already saw that one, and it is tacky. And do not call me Miss Rossi. I am Mrs. Vance."

The air in the room grew heavy with tension. Kaelen waved the designer away. "You can go. We will continue this later."

The designer gathered the heavy skirts of the rejected gown and hurried away. She muttered under her breath to a colleague. "Is she insane? She is such an obvious, fake homewrecker."

The hushed words carried across the quiet boutique. Valeria turned livid.

"What did you just say?" She lunged toward the retreating woman, but Kaelen grabbed her arm.

"That is enough. You are still ill." Kaelen kept his grip firm.

Valeria burst into tears. She yanked at the fabric of his shirt. "How could she say that about me? I knew you first. You have to kick that designer out of Blackridge. Furthermore, you need to publicly announce we are each other's first love. Tell the world Sloane was a nobody who came between us!"

Frustration tightened Kaelen's jaw. Her volatile behavior was grating on his nerves. Still mindful of her fragile health, he nodded to pacify her. "Fine. I will handle it."

Her spiteful words left a sour taste in his mouth. His gaze cooled as he stared at the endless racks of white silk. A sudden, uncontrollable thought pierced his mind. What would Sloane look like in a wedding dress?

Sloane hung up the phone. She texted Ronan back, declining his offer to throw a welcome-back party. She typed out a quick excuse about being exhausted and tossed the device onto the mattress.

The screen lit up again, bombarding her with relentless news notifications about Kaelen and Valeria's impending wedding. Sloane stared blankly at the glowing alerts. Despite her fierce claims of being over him, a deep, residual heartache clawed at her chest.

She remembered the bleak day she became Kaelen's wife. No guests. No vows. No celebration. She had stood alone in a sterile government office to get their certificate. The disparity between her lonely, pathetic wedding and Valeria's extravagant public spectacle was a bitter pill to swallow.

Sloane pulled the heavy blanket up to her chin and curled into a tight ball. She tried to force herself to sleep.

Suddenly, deafening music vibrated through the thick bedroom walls. The heavy bass rattled the mahogany vanity.

Sloane threw off her blanket and massaged her pounding temples.

Next door, Chloe was throwing a fit. She was furious about being relegated to a shabby guest room. To exact her petty revenge against Sloane, she had cranked the stereo volume to the maximum limit. Chloe jumped onto the mattress, dancing wildly to the pounding beat. She was determined to keep everyone in Kensington Court awake.

Engrossed in her petty fantasies of revenge, Chloe never heard the bedroom door click open.

Sloane stepped stealthily into the guest room, her expression ice-cold in the dim light. She gripped the edges of a heavy plastic tub filled to the brim. Without a single second of hesitation, she swung her arms and hurled the contents forward.

A massive wave of ice-cold water splashed directly over Chloe.

The freezing deluge drenched the dancing girl from head to toe. Chloe gasped in shock, letting out a piercing scream that cut right through the blaring music.