Lilia's heart pounded violently against her ribs as the realization struck—this had all been planned. Every detail. Every step.
From the very beginning, her instincts had screamed at her. Those intrusive thoughts she had ignored, those nagging feelings she had brushed aside—all of them had been right. Now it all made sense.
The dress.
That was why the woman had looked so shocked when she had chosen the simpler gown. They had expected her to pick the heavier one—the one they had said Zethan had chosen for her. Something layered and extravagant, something that would weigh her down, restrict her movement. They had counted on it.
And now, she was trapped.
The fire raged, its heat pressing against the car, wrapping it in searing fingers as thick smoke filled the air. The acrid scent stung her nose, burning her lungs with every breath.
Panic surged through her veins, hot and wild, but she couldn't afford to freeze. She had seconds—maybe less.