Cage to Cage
It’s a confession.
“Turn around, let me see you” he says, low, almost pleading.
I do.
The gown transforms me. Ivory crepe falls in clean, architectural lines, the fabric structured yet fluid. No frills, no innocence. It’s a dress of power — sharp seams that define my figure without exposing too much, strength stitched into every panel.
Vex studies me like he’s seeing me for the first time. His hand lifts, hovers near my face, then falls again, restraint winning over instinct.
Bab Populer