Arabella:
I stared at my reflection, barely seeing the dress clinging to my body. A simple white maxi, silver stones trailing to my ankles. My hair was pulled into a sleek bun, my makeup subtle, making me look like the perfect bride.
The dress was beautiful, elegant, and perfect. Too perfect for something so fake.
But fake or not, it was happening. I was going to walk down the aisle with Adrian Davidson. It was ironic that I'd once dreamed of this moment with him but now, the thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.
"I must say that of all the women he has brought for me to dress, you are the most stunning," A heavily French-accented voice said behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. Lifting my eyes, they clashed with Brigitte's sharp gaze through the mirror.
As Adrian's stylist, s
