HELENA POV
I had never worn something so revealing without it being my choice.
Okay. That was a lie.
I had never worn something so revealing without wanting to.
That was the first thing that made my stomach turn as Medina finished adjusting the gown and stepped back, head tilted slightly as she assessed her work like I was a doll she had just dressed up for display. The fabric was sheer in places where it absolutely shouldn’t have been, clinging to my wide hips and thunder thighs, skimming over my full chest with the kind of calculated indecency that made it impossible to forget I was being shown on purpose.
Not admired.
Shown.
I looked at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back.
My hair was loose, falling down my back in soft waves that made me look deli
