MIRABEL’S POV.
The luxurious boutique was everything I imagined rich people would shop in and more. The walls shimmered with soft lighting, the displays were spaced out like each item was too sacred to touch, and the faint scent of something expensive lingered in the air.
I almost had a heart attack when I saw the price tags on the dress, and I seemed to be the only one who found the prices outrageous.
“Loosen up, Mirabel,” Silas said with a wink, nudging me forward. “We are here to have fun, not gawk like peasants.”
“I am a peasant,” I muttered, earning a laugh from Silas, who stepped beside me with a grin that could sell dreams.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Owen added. “You are the star today. And as the star, you deserve the best.” After a few moments of rummaging, he turned toward one
