15. All The Lies

"Ma’am, the dress is ready," the maid’s voice broke into my thoughts. I turned to see her holding up a sleek, black gown, elegant and understated, the kind of thing that screamed class without trying too hard.

I took a deep breath and moved toward her, running my fingers over the fabric. "It’s beautiful," I said quietly, though it felt distant, like the words were someone else’s.

She smiled, handing me the dress. "Let’s get you into this, and I’ll work on your hair after."

I nodded, taking the dress into the adjoining room to change. As I slipped into the gown, I felt the weight of the moment pressing down harder. This interview wasn’t just a public appearance—it was my introduction to the world as Ivan’s wife. Every question they’d ask, every look they’d give, it would all be scrutinized, analyzed, and dissected. My life wasn’t just my own anymore. It belonged to the tabloids, to the gossip columns, to the endless sea of curious eyes.

I returned to the vanity, sitting down in front