Page 141 of Picture Perfect

"Time for the grand reveal," Gen announces, her hands fluttering towards the garment bag that holds my dress—a symbol of newfound autonomy.

The makeup artist gives me a nod, and I rise from the chair with a sense of ceremony. There's something thrilling about slipping into a dress that's entirely my choice, a quiet rebellion against Cheryl's heavy-handed elegance.

"Help me?" I ask, turning my back to Gen as I hold out the dress. It's a simple request, but it feels like so much more than that. Tonight, I'm not just dressing up for my engagement party; I'm stepping into myself, unapologetically.

"Of course," she replies, her fingers deftly moving along the zipper.

I step into the black chiffon, the fabric whispering promises against my skin as it falls into place. The straps rest lightly on my shoulders, each split delicately to form a 'v' that mirrors my own vulnerability and strength. The neckline offers a daring plunge, yet retains a grace that speaks to understated beauty—a balance I've strived to find within myself.

Turning to face the mirror, I hardly recognize the girl staring back. The braids on either side of my head give way to an elegant bun, a crown of sorts, befitting the new chapter I'm about to enter. My pale skin is a stark canvas to the dark dress, each element accentuating the other in perfect harmony.

"Wow," Gen breathes out, standing beside me. Her reflection shows pride and something fiercer—protection, maybe, or solidarity.

"Wow indeed," I echo, allowing myself a rare moment of indulgence. The lacy back with its keyhole cutout exposes more skin than I'm used to, yet it feels right —like a secret between the dress and myself. It's simpler than anything Cheryl would have chosen for me, lacking the usual ostentation, but it's embellished with enough detail to remind me that I am, in fact, beautiful.

"My cousin and his boys won't know what hit them," Gen chuckles, and I can't help but join in. The laughter feels good; it feels like freedom.

"Let's not ruin their surprise," I say, meeting her eyes in the mirror. We share a conspiratorial grin, a silent pact sealed between reflections.

"Ready to take on the night?" Gen asks, offering me her arm.

"More than ready," I reply, a surge of anticipation coursing through me. With one last glance at our mirrored selves, we turn towards the door, leaving behind the sanctuary of preparation for the promise of the evening ahead.

The stairs creak under our feet, the sound a gentle prelude to the moment I've been both dreading and dreaming of. The scent of Gen's floral perfume mingles with the subtle fragrance of my own, creating an invisible shroud of anticipation as we descend. Hushed voices and the clinking of glass from below rise to greet us.

"Boys, turn around," Gen commands with a playful sternness that has them obediently spinning on their heels. "No peeking until I say so." Her voice is a velvet threat laced with amusement.

"Gen, you're—this is too far," comes a muffled protest, but it's cut short by another's laughter.

"Trust me, it'll be worth it," she replies, her hand gripping the railing as she tosses a mischievous glance over her shoulder to make sure they're complying.

I stifle a giggle, feeling the fluttering in my stomach intensify. With each step, the fabric of my dress whispers over my skin, a constant reminder of my transformation tonight.

"Okay..." Gen draws out the suspense, pausing for effect as we reach the final step. "Turn."

There's a collective intake of breath, a symphony of gasps that fills the air. My heart thuds against my ribs, seeking escape, as green eyes meet a trio of stares—each pair more intense than the last.

"Snowflake..."

"Wow, Addy, you look—"

"Unbelievable."

Their words overlap, stumble over one another, a cacophony of awe and something deeper, more profound. It's the look in their eyes that says everything—admiration, desire, and a fierce protectiveness that wraps around me like a shield.

"Easy, boys," Gen teases, stepping forward to intercept any potential chaos. "She's still got to make it to the party in one piece."

"Wouldn't dream of ruining this masterpiece," one of them quips, gesturing at me with a reverence that makes heat creep up my neck.

"Let's get going then," I say, my voice steady despite the emotional whirlwind inside me. "We wouldn't want to keep everyone waiting."

"Definitely not," Gen agrees, linking her arm with mine. "Tonight's all about you, Addy."

"About time," I murmur, smiling at the truth of it. As we move toward the door, the sense of belonging washes over me, potent and real. Tonight, I'm not just Adelaide Winthrop; I'm part of something greater, something chosen—not imposed. And I can hardly wait to see where the night takes us.

The last step taken, the cool marble of the foyer meets the soles of my heels, and the boys are upon me like moths to a flame. Their eyes drink in every detail, from the braided crown atop my head to the hem of my dress whispering against the floor.

"Princess, you are absolutely stunning," Saint breathes out, his gaze lingering with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

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