My Billionaire Rock Star Husband
“Other level. Like, black, masses of tulle, a train that takes fifteen hundred bridesmaids to keep under control, and a f-king princess carriage to arrive in. Your wedding dress shouldn’t be an apology of politeness, like, I am so sorry, is my lace too loud? Your dress should be a declaration, a trumpet flare, a f–k this shit, stand back and admire the rock glory.”
Emily laughed. “Oh, Meg.”
“Like you didn’t love every second of your time with Vice and Victor. I have seen the photos, little sis, and they know you, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself. The OTT hair, the thigh high boots, and the plastered-on clothing… I don’t know how they clued into you so quickly, given your I’m so
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