The gala preparations took place for the next four days.
Izzy had never seen anything like it. The estate transformed into something out of a fairy tale, with white flowers everywhere, crystal chandeliers hung in the gardens, and ice sculptures that cost more than her old apartment’s yearly rent.
She tried not to think about the price tags.
“Stop fidgeting,” the stylist said, pinning another section of Izzy’s hair.
“I’m not fidgeting.”
“You’ve moved three times in the last minute.”
Izzy forced herself to sit still. The dress hung on the door—midnight blue silk that probably cost more than her car. She’d argued about it, but Alex had just handed over his credit card and walked away.
Her phone buzzed. A text from her mom:"Good luck tonight, honey. You look beautiful. I saw the photos
