Preparations
Alara’s POV The silk gown hung across the French doors like a promise. Clarke twirled in her seat beside me, flipping through floral arrangements while Ace’s mother, Vivianne Wolfe, gracefully sipped tea on the edge of the sofa. The penthouse was a whirlwind of ivory fabrics, lace samples, and scent trials for custom bridal perfumes. “My dad called last night,” Clarke said suddenly, eyes sparkling. “He wants to walk you down the aisle, if you’ll let him.” I froze. It hit me then—really hit me. I didn’t have a father to give me away… not anymore. My throat tightened. Clarke reached out, squeezing my hand, and Vivianne simply gave a soft smile of approval. “I… I don’t know what to say.” “Say yes,” Clarke beamed. “He adores you.” I nodded slowly, emotions rising too fast to suppress
- Writer
