Chapter 464
Chapter 464:
“I don’t care about physics!” Sienna snapped. “I want to look thin. I want it tighter than the mannequin. I want to be poured into it p>
She glared at Skye. “Skye is wearing a loose sack because she has nothing to show off. I have curves p>
Skye smirked, turning away to hide her expression. She walked over to the assistant holding the measuring tape.
“Give the lady what she wants,” Skye whispered. “Make it tight. Very tight p>
The assistant, who had been glared at by Sienna for the last ten minutes, nodded. There was a gleam of malicious compliance in her eyes.
The measurements began. Sienna sucked in her stomach until she was blue in the face.
“Tighter,” Sienna commanded as the tape went around her waist. “I plan to lose five pounds before Saturday p>
“Saturday is in two days,” the assistant noted dryly. “And there is a fifty percent surcharge for a forty-eight-hour rush order p>
Beatrice flinched visibly. “Fifty percent? That’s extortion p>
“It is the price of perfection, Mother,” Sienna hissed. “Just pay it. When I marry Liam, we’ll own half the city p>
Beatrice gritted her teeth and nodded, though her hands shook as she authorized the payment.
“I’ll stop eating,” Sienna declared. “Just sew it p>
Skye and Alistair were finished. Skye had changed back into her street clothes, a chic, tailored jumpsuit that allowed her to move freely.
Alistair offered her his arm. They walked past Sienna, who was currently being wrapped in the stiff fabric like a mummy.
“Good luck with the dress, Sienna,” Skye said. “I’m sure it will be… impactful p>
“It will be iconic!” Sienna yelled back, unable to turn her head because the fabric was digging into her neck.
Skye and Alistair walked out of the shop and into the cool afternoon air. The moment the door closed behind them, Skye burst out laughing.
“She ordered a straitjacket,” Skye gasped, leaning against Alistair for support. “A mermaid cut in brocade? She won’t be able to bend her knees. She’s going to waddle p>
Alistair chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “You are wicked, mon cœur p>
𝗬о𝘂r d𝘪𝗀𝘪𝘵𝘢𝗹 𝗅𝗂𝖻ra𝗋𝘆 𝗼𝗻 b𝘦.𝗰o𝘮
“I just gave her what she asked for,” Skye said, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. “She wanted to be a statue. Now she is one p>
“And the stairs at Kensington Manor?” Alistair asked. “The grand staircase she insists on descending for her entrance p>
Skye’s smile turned razor-sharp.
“That,” she said, “is going to be the highlight of the evening p>
The night before the engagement party, the city of Seaview seemed to hold its breath. But the internet did not.
Skye sat on the sofa in the penthouse, her legs tucked under her. The room was dark, lit only by the panoramic view of the skyline and the glow of her phone.
She opened her photo gallery.
There were hundreds of photos of her and Alistair. Paparazzi shots, stolen moments, formal portraits. But she chose one that was intimate, quiet.
It was a black-and-white photo taken by Felix. It showed only their hands. Alistair’s large hand engulfed hers, his thumb resting on her knuckles. On her finger, the engagement ring—a rare blue diamond—caught the light even in monochrome. On his wrist, the distinct face of his custom Patek Philippe watch was visible.
No faces. No grand declarations. Just intimacy and power.
She typed a caption: Finally found my equal.
She hit “Post p>