Chapter 340
Chapter 340:
The thought brought a soft warmth to her chest, and she carried the box up to her room, curiosity flickering in her. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Yelena debated for a moment before texting Austin. “Did you have someone send me a gown p>
Austin’s reply was almost instant, as if he’d been expecting her message. “Yes, I had it delivered. Do you like it? Try it on. If it’s not your style, I’ll pick something else for you p>
“Okay,” Yelena typed back, unable to hide her excitement.
Had Austin actually selected this gown himself just for her? He was always swamped with work—how on earth had he managed to carve out time to choose a gown for her? The thought made Yelena’s cheeks flush with a soft pink hue.
Setting her phone aside, she reached for the box, her fingers tingling with anticipation. Normally, if Austin hadn’t sent something, she’d have asked Brody to select a stunning gown from Moda Style. But now, everything had been effortlessly handled. She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of gown Austin had chosen for her.
The anticipation swelled, and with a breath of excitement, she opened the box.
Nestled inside was a gown labeled Starry Night. The sight of it stopped Yelena in her tracks.
Of course, she knew this gown. It had graced the glossy pages of fashion magazines. They said it was a masterpiece, each detail painstakingly crafted by a team of artisans who poured days of labor into its creation.
Every shimmering diamond stitched into the fabric was real—an indulgence of time, talent, and treasure. This gown wasn’t just expensive; it was a legend, a wearable dream designed to dazzle.
As Yelena took it in, her heart fluttered with a cocktail of emotions—gratitude, awe, and a touch of disbelief. She felt spoiled in the best way, like royalty being lavished with treasures.
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Carefully, she lifted the gown, eager to see how it would look on her. But just as she was about to slip it over her shoulders, her eyes caught something that made her pause—a stray thread dangling from the fabric.
Her brows knitted together in surprise. How could this be?
A brand of this caliber wasn’t known for slip-ups.
This gown wasn’t just off-the-rack; it was a custom marvel, surely inspected down to the tiniest detail before it left their atelier.
Confused, Yelena turned the gown around, her designer instincts kicking in.
And then, she saw the problem. Her face went as pale as moonlight.
As a designer herself, she knew clothes inside and out. Her trained eye was like a magnifying glass for imperfections.
She spotted the flaw in an instant—a glaring imperfection that stood out like a smudge on a masterpiece.
To the untrained eye, the flaw might have passed unnoticed—a tiny hiccup in the stitching, insignificant to most.
But Yelena lived and breathed design. To her, the error was glaring, a discordant note in an otherwise perfect symphony.
She tugged at the loose thread with delicate fingers, and to her horror, it unraveled effortlessly, as though it had been waiting to fall apart.
Her face shifted immediately, a mix of disbelief and suspicion clouding her features.
Who could have tampered with the gown?
It couldn’t have been the brand. They were meticulous, their reputation built on perfection. Every detail would have been scrutinized before the gown left their hands. And why would they risk sabotaging their own creation? It simply made no sense.
That left only one unsettling possibility: someone in her own home had meddled with it.
Yelena bit her lip, her mind racing. Her eyes narrowed, determination flashing in their depths. Whoever was behind this wouldn’t stay hidden for long.
Yelena had a hunch about who was behind it, but lacked concrete evidence to confirm her suspicions.