"Wait. She'll take the dress."
The voice sliced through the air like a blade, its deep, commanding authority enough to send an audible hush rippling through the crowd.
Conversations halted mid-sentence, laughter stilled, and even the soft melody playing overhead seemed to dull in the face of such power.
It was as if the very air had chilled, the temperature plummeting under the weight of the words.
Heads swiveled, whispers erupting like a wildfire among the onlookers.
"Who said that?"
"Is it… could it be him?"
"No way. Niklaus Hathaway?"
Hermia froze, her heart a wild drumbeat in her chest. Her eyes darted toward the voice's source, wide with disbelief.
Standing there, as though he owned not just the boutique but the entire world, was a man who seemed to exude raw power.
Niklaus Hathaway.
