The showroom was bigger than her entire apartment. And brighter. Jade squinted like a vampire entering heaven.
"Welcome, Miss Lee!" beamed Helena, the stylist, dressed in black from head to toe, with a sharp bob and a measuring tape around her neck like a weapon.
"I've read your measurements," Helena said, dragging over a clothing rack. "But I didn't read your soul. So today we find your essence."
Jade blinked. "My essence?"
Helena held up a sequin dress that could blind an airplane.
"This one says: 'I'm rich and I might kill you.' Try it."
Fifteen minutes later, Jade stepped out of the changing room in the sparkly gown.
She couldn't breathe. Her thighs were welded together. And every step made a sound like she was being followed by a bag of chips.
"I look like a disco ball with trauma," she said flatly.
"Gorgeous," Helena replied, clapping.
Next was a red dress with a slit up to Jade's dignity.
She stepped out slowly.
Helena gasped. "Fierce!"
Jade deadpanned, "I bend over in this and the entire city sees what I had for breakfast."
Helena nodded, completely serious. "That's power."
They kept going:
One puff-sleeved thing that made her look like a pastry.
A jumpsuit so tight she couldn't feel her spleen.
A lace gown that screamed *'my husband owns oil'.*
By hour two, Jade collapsed into a chair in nothing but a bathrobe and heels.
"I'm dying," she groaned. "I've aged 10 years."
Helena sipped her green juice. "Fashion is pain, darling."
"I came here for a dress," Jade muttered. "Not a near-death experience."
Eventually, she emerged in the dress: sleek black, off the shoulder, hugging all the right places without threatening to sue her organs. Paired with heels that she could *almost* walk in.
She looked at her reflection.
"Okay," she said. "I look like someone Daniel would pretend to love in public."
Helena clapped. "Perfect!"
.
.
.
The evening arrived.
Back at Daniel's penthouse, everything was silent except the soft clink of his watch as he checked the time again.
He was adjusting his cufflinks in front of the mirror when the elevator chimed behind him.
He didn't turn.
"Helena said you'd be ready by now."
Silence.
Then heels. Slow. Click. Click. Click.
He finally looked over his shoulder.
And froze.
Jade stood there, hands on hips, dressed in a sleek black off-shoulder gown that hugged her curves like it had been tailored by a goddess. Her hair was pinned up in messy perfection, and the heels added just enough power to her stride to make her look like trouble on legs.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Well? Are we going to the event, or should I turn around and do a runway walk for you?"
Daniel said nothing.
Just blinked once.
"You're staring," she added.
He walked toward her, slow and measured.
"I wasn't expecting... that."
She smirked. "What, expecting me to show up in sneakers and a hoodie?"
He looked her up and down, stopping right at her lips.
"No. But I wasn't expecting you to look like that, either."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice teasing.
"You mean stunning?"
"I mean dangerous," he murmured.
She laughed, stepping back. "Relax. I'm not going to steal your wallet."
He offered her his arm. "You look... perfect."
Jade blinked, a little thrown off.
"Oh. Compliment from the iceberg. Noted."
He smirked. "Try not to start a scandal tonight."
She took his arm with a grin. "No promises. Especially if there's wine."
.
.
.
The black luxury car glided through the evening traffic, tinted windows shielding them from the city's chaos. Inside, Jade sat in her new black dress, legs crossed, trying not to fidget with the heels she still hadn't forgiven.
Daniel sat beside her, poised as ever, adjusting the cuffs of his midnight-blue suit.
"Alright," he said without looking at her, "Here's what you need to know."
Jade raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Not even a 'you look stunning' first? Cold."
He glanced at her. "You do look stunning. Now focus."
She smirked but stayed quiet.
He continued, "Tonight's event is hosted by Orellana one of my father's oldest friends. He's a philanthropist and art collector. Extremely respected."
"Of course he is," she murmured. "Sounds like the kind of guy who calls wine 'vintage expressions' and owns a pet hawk."
Daniel ignored her. "He organizes this gala every year. It's for an art foundation restoring museums, auctioning pieces, lots of very rich people pretending they care about culture."
"Lovely," Jade said, staring out the window. "Do I curtsy, or just bow when I walk in?"
He glanced sideways, amused. "Just don't trip. Or insult anyone. Especially not Camilla."
That got her attention. "Camilla?"
"Yes. She'll be there."
Jade turned to him fully now. "Let me guess. Ex-girlfriend? Family friend? Or both?"
Daniel didn't blink. "She's... complicated."
Jade snorted. "Of course she is. With a name like Camilla and a trust fund, I'd be complicated too."
"She's someone the Orellanas respect. So don't let her provoke you."
Jade leaned back with a wicked grin. "You're worried I'll start a scene?"
"I'm worried you'll end one."
The car slowed as they neared the venue. Through the window, golden lights shimmered from the entrance, and photographers already swarmed behind red velvet ropes.
Daniel fixed his tie. "Just smile. Say as little as possible. And stay close."
Jade gave him a mock salute. "Yes, Commander Ooman."
Then she smirked.
"But if that Camilla tries anything, I'm not responsible for any spilled champagne.
The car pulled up slowly in front of the grand entrance of the gallery-turned-gala. Lights flashed, voices shouted, and photographers swarmed like bees at the scent of scandal.
A valet opened the door.
Daniel stepped out first tall, poised, unreadable.
Instant flashes.
"Mr. Ooman! Over here!"
"Who's your date tonight?"
"Smile for Elle Magazine!"
Then Jade stepped out.
And the flashes tripled.
She looked… effortlessly dangerous. The black dress shimmered under the lights, hugging her just enough to cause whispers. Her chin was raised, her expression unreadable half bored, half try me.
Daniel offered his arm. She took it with a smirk, whispering through her teeth:
"Are they always this thirsty?"
"They're just hungry for a headline," he replied smoothly, pulling her in closer.
They walked the red carpet like pros. Daniel nodded politely, Jade gave small, perfectly calculated smiles like she was in on a joke no one else knew.
A reporter leaned in.
"Mr. Ooman, who is this stunning woman beside you?"
Daniel didn't even flinch.
"My fiancée."
Cue the collective gasp.
Click. Click. Click. Flash.