Chapter 23

Serena's POV

I settle onto the plush velvet sofa in the VIP lounge of Aurora Devereaux, crossing my legs as gracefully as I can manage. Milo and Stella sit beside me, nibbling on little chocolate pastries the boutique provided. Their eyes keep flicking toward the fitting-room door, where Evelyn Whitmore and Nina Sinclair have barricaded themselves with my dress. I hear muffled curses and the frantic rustle of expensive fabric.

"She's stuck," Stella whispers, eyes wide with curiosity. Milo snickers under his breath.

I gently pat their shoulders. "Don't gloat," I say. "But if she tears it, she's paying triple."

I sipping from the tiny cup of coffee in my hand. "Having trouble in there?" I call out sweetly.

No response at first. Then comes Evelyn's sharp hiss. "Nina, pull harder! That zipper can't be stuck!"

I'm afraid that shimmering dress jammed against her torso, likely about to burst at the seams. I shoot Milo a reassuring glance; he and Stella exchange a giggle. They know exactly what's going on-Evelyn's arrogance just met cold reality. Apparently, her "perfect figure" isn't so perfect after all.

A solid minute passes before Nina finally cracks open the door. She's flushed, hair escaping her neat updo. Evelyn appears behind her, face bright red, clutching the half-zipped gown around her waist.

Evelyn's glare locks on me. "This-" She tugs in frustration at the dress's bodice. "This must be defective. There's no way I gained weight."

Nina nods vigorously. "Yes, obviously the sizing is off!"

I roll my eyes. "Maybe you should try less complaining and more honesty. You agreed to the bet-wear it, or pay up."

Evelyn sets her jaw, shooting a furious look at Milo and Stella, almost like it's their fault. Then she snaps her gaze back to me. "Fine. Let's see how you look in it. If you can fit this thing so easily, prove it."

She thinks she's baiting me. I just arch a brow and pass my coffee to Stella, telling her and Milo to wait with the pastries. I saunter into the fitting room, ignoring Evelyn's hateful stare. The SA hovers, ready to assist, but I wave her off. I know exactly how to slip into this dress. It's custom-made.

Sure enough, the dress slides up like silk over my skin. The zipper glides without resistance. The mirror confirms it: shimmering crystals flow seamlessly along my figure, hugging every curve in a way that's both elegant and bold. I smile to myself. Lucas really does know how to make me feel untouchable.

As I adjust my gown to fit better, I hear Evelyn say "brother," and a familiar voice responds-Ian Whitmore.

I yank the curtain aside and step out. The store goes dead silent. Evelyn's mouth falls open. Nina almost drops her phone. Even the other customers pause to stare. I can see the reflection of Milo and Stella in the nearby mirror, their eyes turning into big, gleaming saucers.

"Wow," Stella breathes, beaming. "You look like a princess!"

Milo nods furiously. "A super-awesome princess!"

I give the kids a quick wink, then level my gaze at Evelyn. "You were saying?"

She's speechless, her expression a mixture of envy and burning anger. Ian Whitemore sees me in the gown, and practically loses his train of thought. I catch the flicker of astonishment in his gaze before Nina yanks him back to reality.

Evelyn recovers enough to hiss, "Fine. You proved it fits. Big deal. Just name your price so I can walk away from this stupid fiasco."

I fold my arms, letting the crystals sparkle under the bright boutique lights. "20 grand. Unless you want to risk ripping it trying again." I watch her expression darken at the number.

Ian steps in, coughing. "Evelyn, let's not blow this up. We-uh-we can handle this like civilized adults." His eyes flick to me. "I'll cover it, Serena. Consider it compensation for everything."

My lips curl into a cold smile. "You mean hush money? Or do you prefer calling it a 'parting gift'? Doesn't matter to me as long as you settle up."

Evelyn bristles at my tone. "Don't act so high and mighty. You're only winning because you starve yourself or something."

My laugh is short, clipped. "Believe what you want, Evelyn. Hand over the payment and we can all move on."

Ian signals the SA, and in hushed voices, they work out the transaction. Nina lingers by Evelyn's side, throwing me baleful looks. But she stays oddly quiet. Probably knows she can't do anything now.

Finally, the SA returns, nodding politely. "Everything's settled, Ms. Sinclair. The gown is yours. Also, Mr. Whitmore has kindly offered to pay for the children's outfits as well."

I flash a mocking smile at Ian. "How generous of you."

He doesn't respond, just looks embarrassed. Evelyn seethes in silence, arms crossed. She hates losing, especially in public. But there's no backing out now. She glares at me like she wants to claw my eyes out. I shrug, turning to Milo and Stella.

"Ready, kids?"

They nod eagerly. I step back into the fitting room, carefully changing out of the exquisite gown. Once I'm done, I exit, dress in one hand, my chin held high. Evelyn and Nina look like they want to spit fire, but they say nothing.