Grand Galloping Gala Dresses Novels & Stories

I’ve intentionally waited until literally the last possible minute to say a single word to Cade, knowing that a premature confrontation would only result in him locking the deadbolts and turning this mansion into an absolute tomb. I stand in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing down the heavy fabric of my dress. I’ve chosen the royal blue gown from the boutique. The one with the daring sweetheart neckline and form-fitting silhouette. At twelve weeks, the plush fabric clings tightly to my curves, highlighting the soft, undeniable contour of my changing waistline. I’ve swept my hair into a neat, elaborate bun, leaving a few dark strands to frame my face, and applied a sharp wing of black

THE GALA The night gleamed with the kind of precision only the wealthy could afford. The Vaughn Foundation’s Annual Business Gala—white marble floors, chandeliers dripping with gold light, a symphony whispering through the air like money in motion. Amara Voss stepped into it as though she owned the place. Her gown was black satin, cut like sin and silence. The neckline modest, the back scandalous. Every head that turned her way paused for a beat too long, but she didn’t notice—or perhaps she did, and simply didn’t care. Her focus was elsewhere.

At least food didn’t lie to you. By early evening, I was home, showered, and standing in front of my closet, contemplating what to wear to the gala. Black. Always black for these events. It was elegant, safe, and somehow, a shield. I chose a black velvet gown with a low back and a neckline that said I wasn’t here to be sweet — I was here to be noticed. A swipe of red lipstick, silver drop earrings, and a diamond cuff bracelet Calix had given me months ago.

She blushed. I held her hands as we walked to the door and opened it for her. She went through first, and my breath caught in my throat. Her back was bare, glowing under the light. I stood frozen, as I watched her walk. I thought I had seen all about the dress but this? She was going to turn heads. I was going to be with the prettiest woman in the room. The gala was held at The Belleview Suites, a rival hotel that had done anything and everything to outshine The Montgomery Grand.

“Done. Pick her up at eight. Black tie. And Killian, keep her out of trouble.” Killian gave a sharp nod, but his grey eyes burned when they finally met mine. He was warning me. I smiled sweetly back, uncrossing and recrossing my legs again just to watch his control strain. The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of preparation. Sofia came over to help me pick the dress for the gala. A deep emerald green number that hugged my body like a second skin, with a thigh high slit and a neckline that plunged between my breasts. It was elegant enough for high society but sinful enough to destroy Killian’s focus.

****Day of the Gala**** The gala is every bit as over-the-top as Cassie promised. Crystal chandeliers, waiters moving through the crowd with trays of champagne. There’s a live band, and the air smells faintly of roses and expensive perfume. Cassie is in a deep red gown that's catching more attention than necessary. I’m in black silk dress with my hair packed up, diamonds at my ears. I feel... dangerously hot. We mingled, sipped drinks, laughed at Cassie’s commentary on the ridiculous art auction starting in the corner. And then—

I eyed the guards, who looked straight forward like the wall was super interesting and walked back into my room where Guela, Luzo and Willa were putting out all the make-up, hair stuff and dresses. All the dresses were over the top. Gold dresses, silver, deep red, half naked ones, see through ones, even a bright pink one. The gala was meant to be a fashion show, so I wasn't disappointed by their choices. Masks that covered the top half of the face matched every dress. Someone upped the fashion show bit.

Once Anne and Etan engage, Anne and her mother won't let me go. I can abandon love, but I must take revenge!' Jean went back to her office, opened her computer, and sent an email. "You can show the last dress I designed. By the way, please send the dress to 131, Building 5, Lexington Avenue." The sender was Galene. Five years ago, Galene won the gold medal in the international fashion design competition. That dress was auctioned by a foreign collector at one million dollars. Then, Galene became very famous.

Plunging necklines, hip-high slits, shimmering fabrics that caught the light in ways that made me blush in the mirror. “You keep reaching for safe,” she chided, plucking a muted gown from my hands and replacing it with a deep red silk number that looked dangerous just hanging on the hanger. “This is a gala. You want their eyes on you from the second you walk in until the second you leave.” Grandpa nodded approvingly. “Red has always been your color.” I laughed, but something in me was thrilled at the thought. Maybe I was ready for dangerous. After seeing Dominic and Neil doing bodyshots, it seemed a little silly to go for something reserved. My God, my head hurts.

“That’s what you get, Ophelia! Bye-bye!” I shook my head, my heart still racing. “Let’s keep shopping, MJ,” I said, picking up the silver dress. “This one’s mine.” We spent another hour trying gowns, the private room quiet now. I settled on the silver beaded dress—sleeveless, with a deep neckline and a slit that showed just enough leg. It was perfect, bold and powerful. Maryjane picked a teal gown, her curls bouncing as she twirled. “We’re gonna own that gala,” she said, grinning.