The Armor

The front doors opened again, and the stylist walked back into the room.

"I found the extra pins, Mrs. Vale, sorry about the delay," the stylist said, walking towards the changing room. She stopped short, her eyes dropping to the wide open curtain Cassian had ripped aside, and then to Selene’s flushed face. She cleared her throat, instantly sensing the change in the room. "Is... everything alright in here?"

Selene forced her shoulders down and took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. She looked at herself in the mirror, staring at the white dress.

Find a better dress, El.

Cassian's words echoed in her ears, making her suddenly grip the dress tightly. Why was she letting him dictate what she wore? She shouldn't be changing just because he told her to, but as she looked at the white chiffon, it felt entirely wrong now. It looked too simple, too plain, and like the kind of dress a compliant, submissive wife would wear to stand quietly by her husband’s side while he did all the talking.

If she was going to change, she was going to make it her choice, and she was going to make him regret ever looking at her today.

"Everything is fine," Selene whispered. "Actually, change of plans. Take this dress off me."

The stylist blinked, surprised. "But the minimalist design—"

"It's too boring," Selene cut her off, her fingers already working to unfasten the gold hoop earring. "We need something completely different. Show me the pieces you brought that were supposed to be 'too risky' for the Vale family image."

The stylist hesitated for a second, then a small, knowing smile touched her lips. She had waited so long for the day Selene will finally dress for the great body that she has. "Right away."

For the next hour, Selene went on a spree of trying clothes on. She didn't sit down, or rest, rejecting gown after gown with a single glance. The adrenaline from the fight with Cassian was still pumping through her veins, turning her frustration into pure focus. If Cassian wanted to claim she belonged to him in front of the media, she was going to make sure she looked utterly lethal.

"Try this one," the stylist suggested, pulling out a soft silk gown in a deep maroon shade. "It arrived from Milan yesterday."

Selene grabbed the fabric, and stepped behind the drapes to put it on. When she walked out, the stylist completely stopped talking.

The dress was dangerous and intentionally sexy. The neckline dropped down in a dramatic, plunging V that stopped just above her navel, framing her full chest beautifully without a single hint of modesty. When she turned around, the entire back of the dress was completely gone, bared all the way down to her lower waist, exposing every inch of the skin Cassian had just touched. It was a direct fuck you to his possessive rules.

"This is the one," Selene said, staring directly into her own eyes in the mirror. "Pack it up. No delicate jewelry either. I want clean gold cuffs for my wrists."

"Yes, Mrs. Vale. I’ll have it pressed and delivered to the house tomorrow morning," the stylist replied quickly, clearly eager to finish up and leave the house.

Twenty minutes later, Selene was back in her regular blazer and trousers. She snatched her car keys, her phone, and her laptop bag from the kitchen counter, refusing to let her mind wander back to the living room.

She had a firm to run, and if Cassian thought a mere threat was going to keep her from going to work, he had entirely underestimated her.

She walked out to her car, and drove straight to the office complex downtown.

By the time Selene parked outside the complex, she felt completely back in control. Daniel had stood up for her yesterday. He’d been wowed by her portfolio and she had earned this launch. She wasn't going to let Cassian's money downplay her achievement.

She walked through the lobby, offering a stiff nod to the receptionist, and took the elevator up to her agency's floor.

"Selene, thank god you're here," Hannah said, rushing up to her the second the elevator doors slid open. Hannah’s face was pale, her tablet clutched tightly against her chest like a shield.

Selene frowned, her fingers tightening on her laptop strap. "What's wrong? Did Mr Sterling’s team call?"

"No," Hannah whispered, glancing nervously toward the main conference room at the end of the hall. "It’s not Mr Sterling, there’s a group of people in the conference room. They arrived forty minutes ago, walked in and went straight there… almost like they’re taking over. They're going through some of our files right now."

Selene felt her blood run cold. "Don’t be dramatic Hannah, who are they?"

"They said they represent the Vale Meridian Group," Hannah stammered, her eyes wide with panic. "They said they are the primary stakeholders now, and they're restructuring the entire media layout for the gala."

Selene marched down the hallway, her heels clicking loudly against the floor, as she pushed open the door of the conference room without knocking.

Four people in identical black suits were seated around the table. Laptops were open, and her carefully printed plans for the gallery launch were scattered across the surface, covered in red ink.

At the head of the table sat a woman with tiny glasses perched on her nose, and her hair pulled into a tight bun. Selene recognized her immediately as Cassian’s chief public relations director.

The woman looked up. "Ah, Mrs. Vale. Good morning. We were just reviewing your layout for the red carpet. It’s a decent start, but unfortunately, it doesn't align with the branding requirements of the Vale Group. We've already started making the necessary corrections."

Selene stood frozen in the doorway, staring at her ruined plans. Cassian hadn't just threatened her at home; he had beaten her to her own office.