Sofia stumbled toward the massive walk-in closet, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps. When she had woken up that morning and seen the rows of designer dresses, the polished shoes, and the elegant bags, she had thought they were gifts—new items Alaric had bought to replace everything she lost in the apartment attack.
But now…
Now she looked at them with wide, terrified eyes.
She grabbed a soft, cashmere sweater from a hanger and pressed it to her face. It didn't smell like a store. It didn't have that crisp, chemical scent of new fabric. Instead, it carried a faint, lingering aroma—a mix of expensive perfume and dried lavender.
"No..." she whispered, her hands shaking as she dropped the sweater.
