Page 84 of Lords of Ruin: Savage

“Babes, you look like a cupcake.” Rudy pouts, staring at the thirteenth wedding dress I have tried on covered in lace, puffy as all hell, and drowned in layers of satin while also allowing my shoulders to be exposed.

“Rudy!” Sophie exclaims, as she plucks him.

“He’s right, buttercup. This doesn’t work.” Brooke sighs, shaking her head. “Babe, why did you pick this one?”

“Willow said she wanted to be a princess.” Jasmine protests.

“Princess, not ‘puff ball,’” Rudy murmurs.

I sigh, lifting the heavy skirt with both hands as I turn to the mirror. Itisa lot. I look less like a blushing bride and more like a runaway debutante drowning in layers of expensive regret.

“Alright,” I groan, plucking at the lace-covered bodice. “Next one.”

Brooke claps her hands together, all business. “Okay, we need somethingtimeless. Classic, elegant, but with just enough drama to remind everyone who thefuckyou are.”

“Oh, I am so obsessed with her ,” Rudy sighs dreamily.

Sophie leans over to Jasmine and whispers, “I’m a little scared of her.”

Jasmine nods solemnly. “As you should be.”

Brooke ignores them, scanning the racks like a general preparing for war. Then her eyes land onit.

A strapless silk gown with a structured corset bodice that melts into a sleek, flowing skirt. The fabric is smooth, almost liquid under the showroom lights, shimmering with every movement. There’s a delicate button-down back, a dramatic train—but no lace, no frills. It’s simple, but devastatingly gorgeous.

Brooke grabs it, turning to me with a gleam in her eyes. “Try this on. Now.”

I hesitate for half a second before Vincent’s voice cuts through the noise. “That’s the one.”

Everyone turns to look at him. He hasn’t moved from his seat, but his gaze is locked on the dress in Brooke’s hands. There’s a confident determination in his expression, somethingfinal. Like he already knows exactly what I’ll look like in it, and he’s already made up his mind.

“Vincent, go get a corn dog or something. Get out of here!” Jasmine snaps.

Vincent rolls his shoulders. “Wherever Willow is, I will be.”

“Babe,” I whisper and his eyes shoot to mine, burning like lava. “You can’t see my wedding dress. It’s bad luck.”

His lips twitch as he tries to stop a smile. “Bad luck? Babe, you’re mine regardless.”

“I know,” I blush.

“You better,” he rasps, gripping the armrest and standing up. “Ladies and Rudy, I will go figure out what a corn dog is.”

Brooke and Sophie giggle as Jasmine says, “You are going tolovethem, rich boy.”

He winks at me, and we watch as he walks out of the boutique, turning left to the food court.

I swallow, taking the hanger from Brooke and stepping back into the dressing room.

“It’s the one, I promise.” Brooke smiles, and I nod closing the door to the changing room, sighing the minute I run the new dress through my hands.

The moment I slip into the dress, Ifeelit. The fabric molds to my body, the silk cool against my heated skin. It hugs my curves, cinches my waist just enough to remind me Ihaveone, then cascades down into that breathtaking train.

I turn slowly, my breath catching as I take myself in.Holy shit.

As I step out of the dressing room, the dress clinging to me like it was made for this very moment, I can’t help but smile at their reactions.

Rudy’s jaw drops. “Holy shit. You look like agoddess.”

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