Page 190
Selene
“Are you sure I’m supposed to be part of this photoshoot?” I ask for what has to be the hundredth time by now.
“Yes,” Melissa replies, the same woman who dragged me away from Zayn over an hour ago. “I told Maya this morning that one of our models dropped out, and she said she’d send me someone suitable.”
“A model?” I repeat, my brows lifting. “No offense, but I’m very far from being a model.”
“Honey,” she says sharply, barely sparing me a glance. “You’re not a model. You’re a goddess. Now you need to put this on.”
She holds out a hanger.
For a long moment, I simply stare.
The wedding dress hanging from it is the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.
Delicate fabric spills from the hanger in soft, elegant layers, catching the sunlight streaming through the window. Even hanging there, untouched and waiting, it carries the kind of presence that makes my chest tighten.
My fingers curl around the edge of the hanger, suddenly reluctant to take it.
“A wedding dress?” Okay. Now I’m officially overwhelmed.
“Yes. We’re shooting for a bridal fashion catalog.”
“You’re the main character,” the girl fixing my hair adds with a grin, carefully adjusting a rebel strand.
“We need to move fast,” Melissa urges, already waving someone over. “I don’t want to lose this beautiful sunlight. The weather is absolutely perfect for pictures.”
The room around me bursts into movement.
People rush from one corner to another, racks of white dresses glide past me, and hands reach for makeup brushes, curling irons, clips, and camera equipment. Voices overlap in a constant stream, creating a strange mixture of organized chaos and effortless confidence.
It all feels overwhelming.
Chaotic.
Unreal.
And somehow, right in the middle of it, I’m a bride.
Or at least, I’m apparently about to look like one.
I still don’t understand what’s happening, but the bodyguards are with me, their familiar presence enough to keep me grounded. Everyone around me is warm and calm, moving with the practiced ease of people who do this every day, and nothing about the situation makes me feel unsafe.
Still, my gaze keeps drifting back to the dress.
Something about it makes my heart beat a little faster.
“You said Zayn is participating in the shoot too?” I try to get more information out of Melissa as she struggles to slide the dress off its hanger.
Three other women surround us, already prepared to help me get ready.
I’ll be wearing this dress for several hours. There are even going to be professional pictures of me in it.
The thought sends another strange flutter through my stomach.
On the makeup table, my phone buzzes before Melissa can answer me.
Maya: I forgot to warn you, honey. Please forgive me. I figured you wouldn’t mind taking a few pictures and trying on some wedding dresses.
