Novel & Cerita Title 9 Dresses

It captured the beautiful gradients of the ocean, both dreamy and mesmerizing. Noticing her gaze, the associate spoke excitedly. "Ms. Kinsey, you have an excellent eye! This dress is the latest work by Ris, titled Deep Sea. There are only five of these in the world. Many customers love it, but the waistline is quite small, so few can wear it. Would you like to try it on?" "Yes, please," Nyla replied. The associate quickly took the dress down and led Nyla to the fitting room. Valarie, with her own collection of formal dresses, didn't see anything that caught her eye right away, so she sat down to wait.

"This dress is a one-of-a-kind Itania creation, the handcrafting alone cost thirty thousand dollars. I never meant to flaunt, but what can I do when I'm married to the wealthiest man around?" She feigned a look of concern, yet her eyes sparkled with triumph. The relatives gasped in awe, while a few young girls, green with envy, reached out to touch the gown, only to be deftly sidestepped by Betty. From the doorway, I let out a soft laugh. Three years ago, when I first laid eyes on Joseph, he was a man battered by life and plagued by illness. He once caught me performing a mystical ritual and became convinced I possessed magic. He begged me to heal him.

Many girls noticed his gaze and looked back at him. Alex thought for a moment. "The designer told me about the dress's style. It's a white dress, sleeveless…" Mandy frowned. "It's off-the-shoulder. You made it sound like the dress was defective." "Oh right, off-the-shoulder. I’m a man; I can't keep up with women's fashion terminology…" Bryden suddenly pointed excitedly. "I see her! Over there! White dress, off-the-shoulder, that girl is the only one in that style!"

I hadn’t even noticed in my general state of fluster, but now that I paid attention… “You look like you’re on the way to the Puritan fetish ball,” Drew went on. Okay, a little harsh, but the demure bun, the ribbon choker, and the corsetry on top of the long, flowing, floofy skirt with a slit up to her thigh… “Or maybe, like, you bought your dress in a package labeled ‘Slutty Laura Ingalls Wil—’”

Serine does as she says and lays out two dresses that look familiar, of course, since they belong to me. Sarah lays down one of her own. I stand up to check the three dresses on my Queen sized bed. The first one is a beige, strapless bodycon that I feel is too fancy and I avert my gaze and look at the one in the middle. The one the middle is simple; it's a black solid side drawstring ruched bodycon. "This one," I say not even looking at the third one. I wore dresses almost every single day so it wouldn't be much of a shocker if I appeared dressed in a dress on this date-

Holding one of those priceless dresses in my hands. Just then, Alaric stepped closer until he was standing behind me. Leaning toward my ear, he said softly, "This is just one of this year's dresses." I slowly turned to look at him. He smiled before adding, "The other nine dresses are still being made." I blinked in confusion. "The other... nine?" A thought suddenly crossed my mind. I stared at him in complete shock. "Don't tell me... you bought Genevieve Moreau's entire collection for this year?"

It was so thoughtful of Lucas to get me an assistant that would fill in for me, I was supposed to be at the meeting with the investors but I guess he'd sorted it out with my assistant and all I had to do was the paperwork. I went into the bathroom to shower, squishing extra hard on the citrus gel wash. I wanted to put in more effort in smelling nice– I always did, but this one was different. A black box was lying at the bottom of my closet, I smiled, picked it up and opened the package. "Lord have mercy," the surprise was a black Emporium Macron fall dress limited edition. She'd just produced five of the dresses with tags, my jaw dropped when I saw the number 1. Etched in silver at the edge

Chapter Nine: Red Is the Color of Possession ‎ ‎The dress arrived sealed in a black garment bag. ‎ ‎No note this time. ‎ ‎That alone made my stomach twist. ‎ ‎I unzipped it slowly, my breath catching when the fabric slid into view. ‎ ‎Red. ‎ ‎Not innocent red. Not playful. ‎Deep. Dangerous. The kind of red that whispered instead of screamed. ‎ ‎The dress was sleeveless, cut low enough to suggest scandal without crossing it, hugging my waist before falling in a clean, elegant line that promised movement. The slit climbed my thigh—not high enough to break a rule, but high enough to test intention.

Before I could respond, the door opened and two women stepped in, carrying dresses. Not just dresses. Weapons. Silk, velvet, black lace, silver beading that caught the light like shards of broken glass. Gowns not made for weddings… they were made for war. My throat went dry. Valerio gestured toward them like a king presenting spoils. “Choose. But remember… you’re not going there to hide. You’re going there to burn.” The first dress was deep crimson, like spilled wine. Floor length, hugging my curves. Too loud, too obvious maybe.

Oh God please help me! She searches through the dresses and within a few seconds hands me a dress. I take a look at it and notice that it's an orange bodycon bandage dress. It's extremely short barely reaching the knee length. it seems so inappropriate considering the type of dresses that I have worn. But my eyes pop out of my sockets when I see that it has a keyhole neck. that would totally expose my boobs. Fuck no! I am not gonna buy this in any case.