Naomi's POV.As I slipped into the dress, I felt the immediate embrace of the white cashmere-soft as a whisper against my skin. It clung gently to my silhouette, not tightly, but with the grace of something that had been crafted to understand my every curve. The fabric was impossibly smooth, with that rare kind of elegance you can feel before you even see it.The dress fell just below the knee, fluid in its movement, with a gentle A-line sweep that followed me like a sigh in motion. The neckline was a modest bateau, gliding gracefully across my collarbones, while long sleeves tapered neatly at my wrists, leaving only a delicate hint of skin exposed.There were no embellishments-no sequins, no lace, no embroidery. It didn't need any. The cashmere spoke for itself: a quiet luxury, pure and unpretentious. In the right light, the white gleamed like new snow, catching the faintest glow from the chandelier above. Even the air around me seemed to stop, as if the fabric demanded a gentler, sl
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