NovelUpdateChapter 50
-Ava’s POV-
| was going to stab someone. Correction: | was going to stab Grayson. As if the pressure of planning a wedding
on such short notice wasn’t enough, he'd just hijacked the entire thing and decided we were getting married
tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
“Lilian, for the hundredth time, stop pacing.” Isabella’s voice cut through my haze of anger. “You're making my
wolf anxious with all that stomping. And maybe, instead of thinking up murder plots, just call him?”
| halted, spinning on my heel. “I'm not calling him. If he wants to change the wedding date without asking me
then I'm not going for the wedding, he can go marry himself, I'm sure he won't mind, he’s a narcissist after all,”
“I know you're pissed-"
“Oh, I'm beyond pissed, Bels,” | interrupted, the frustration spilling out of me. “I'm furious. Who the hell does he
think he is?”
“The all-powerful Alpha King?” Isabella shrugged with a small smirk.
| shot her a glare, and she put her hands up in surrender. “Alright, bad timing for a joke. But seriously, Lilian, you
have to go through with this. | can already picture those awful parents of yours in the corner, looking smug and
judgmental, waiting for you to fail.”
| exhaled heavily, rubbing my temples. “I know that, Bels, | do. But he sprung this whole wedding idea on me
without a word. We had an agreement, and now he’s pulling this? It's just.. it's too much. | can’t even think
straight, and | don’t have anyone to walkdown the aisle.”
Isabella grinned mischievously. “So you do want to marry him tomorrow?”
“One more stupid joke and I'll punch you.”
She laughed. “Alright, alright. Seriously though, he’s taking over the plans and arranging everything by
tomorrow, so that saves you a lot of stress and he’s mega rich, whatever he does will be grand so big wedding:
check. All you really have to do is show up in a dress. Pretend to marry him or whatever.”
Her phone chimed suddenly, and she glanced down at the screen. “Speaking of dresses, Eliza just texted.
Apparently, Grayson commanded her to find your dress and have everything ready by tonight. She's wondering
if you want to pick it out yourself.”
She looked back at me, her eyebrows raised. “Actually, she’s practically begging you to cpick it out before
she has a meltdown.”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Fine, tell her to send the location. | need to make a call first.”
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over her screen as | dialed the one person who felt like real family apart from Isabella. Damien picked Isabella's
fingers flew
his voice warm. “You know | was just thinking of my favorite person in the world and she calls.” up on the first rin
| couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Uncle Damien. | don’t have much time, but | need a big favor. The wedding is
happening tomorrow, and | was hoping you'd... well, walkdown the aisle?”
A pause, then his voice softened. “Of course, little dove. It would be my honor. Id drop everything just for you.”
A warmth filled me, easing sof the tension in my chest. “Thank you, Uncle Damien. I'll text you the details. |
wouldn't want anyone else walkingdown that aisle.”
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As | made to end the call, he hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want to reach out to your parents? It's your
wedding. They're still your family, no matter what. They would want to be there.”
I bit my lip. “I wish | could believe that, Uncle. But no. I'll see you tomorrow. Love you.”
“Love you too, my little dove,” he replied, and | ended the call with a sigh.
Isabella nudged me. “So, Damien's in?”
“Yeah.” | took a steadying breath. “Do you have the location?”
The excitement in her eyes was unmistakable. “Yes! Let's go find you a dress.” She grabbed her purse,
practically bouncing. “I never got to do this with you the first taround. And | can finally say it: the dress
Dylan picked was ugly as hell.”
A laugh escaped me. | grabbed her hand as we headed out, grateful to have her by my side.
Eliza was waiting at the boutique, pacing near the entrance and looking ready to explode with nerves. As soon as
she spotted us, she waved us over, a relieved smile breaking through the stress.
“Oh, thank god you're here!” She greetedwith a quick hug. “It's so good to see you again! | just wish it
wasn’t under Grayson'’s ridiculous deadline. Please don’t tell him | said that. The list of things he wants done is
impossible!”
Isabella pulled her into a hug, too, and they laughed like old friends. Eliza glanced at me, looking frazzled. “We
have so much to do, and I'm running on coffee and sheer willpower. Please, let's just get started before | have a
breakdown.”
She practically dragged us inside, leading us through rows of gowns. | turned to Isabella with a small smile. “I
haven't officially asked you this,” | cleared my throat like | was about to propose, “Isabella Mendez, will you do
She laughed, “You are such a weirdo. Of course! It'd be an honor”
| glanced at Eliza, catching her eye. “And since having only one bridesmaid might be a little odd... would you be
my other one?”
Eliza's eyes lit up, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Are you kidding? I'd be honored. Just letsurvive
today, and I'll be right there with you tomorrow.”
As we chatted, a boutique assistant approached, eyeing us with a professional smile. “How can | help you ladies
today?” Eliza straightened, her demeanor all business. “I already called ahead. We're here under the Blackwood
name.”
The assistant’s expression shifted instantly, respect and recognition in her eyes as she looked at me. “Who is the
bride?”
| raised my hand with an awkward smile, and she gavea look like | was skind of royalty. “Right this We'll
get you sorted with the best we have.”
way, ma'am.
Without missing a beat, Isabella grabbed my hand, practically draggingdown the aisle toward the racks of
dresses. We were ushered into a spacious fitting room, dresses already arranged neatly on display.
Eliza clapped her hands together, her eyes wide with excitement. “Alright, let's find the perfect one. With
Grayson pulling all the strings, we need to make sure you stand out even more.”
| rolled my eyes,
but | couldn't help feeling a surge of excitement. As much as I'd been thrown off by the sudden change, there
was something undeniably thrilling about the chaos. Isabella and Eliza seemed to sense it too, both buzzing with
energy as they sorted through the gowns.
| tried on dress after dress, each one more elaborate than the last Isabella kept snapping photos, offering
commentary on each one with her usual sarcasm. Eliza, despite her earlier frazzled state, was in her element,
adjusting veils, fluffing skirts, and giving feedback while still swiping across her phone like a pro.
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Then, | stepped into the last dress: a sleek, classic gown that fit like a dream. It was simple but elegant, with just
enough detail to make it feel special without going overboard. Isabella and Eliza both fell silent as | looked in the
mirror, and for the first time, | felt a flicker of anticipation.
Eliza finally broke the silence, her voice soft. “That's the one.”
Isabella nodded, her smile turning warm. “Yeah. That's definitely it.”
| looked at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back. For a fleeting moment, | allowed
myself to imagine walking down the aisle in this dress, feeling almost like the bride I always dreamed I could be.
This felt different from what | had with Dylan and it wasn’t even real. But just as quickly as the thought entered
my mind, it was shattered by a voice slicing through the air, sharp and dripping with authority.
“I'm very sorry, but you cannot have that dress. It's already been paid for.”
| turned, along with Isabella and Eliza, to see an older woman standing by the doorway, dressed with a level of
sophistication that suggested old money. Her gaze was calculating, her posture rigid. The woman helping us
looked immediately flustered.
“Madam Raquel, the dress was on-"
One withering glance from the woman cut her off. She turned to me, her smile now a forced display of civility. “I
apologize for this misunderstanding, Mrs. Blackwood, is it? | am the owner here. A long-standing client reserved
that dress, and | must respect her claim. All payments have been made in full.”
“That's a load of bullshit,” Isabella snapped.
Before anyone could say anything else, the door swung open behind us. A tall, familiar figure entered the room,
casting a long shadow that made my stomach sink. The pieces fell into place with crushing inevitability.
Isabella’s glare hardened as she muttered under her breath, “You have got to be kidding me.”
Madam Raquel’s entire demeanor changed as she lit up with genuine warmth, “I’m so glad you could make it. |
was just explaining to her that the dress is already spoken for.”
She turned back to me, her eyes now colder, as if the niceties had been disposed of entirely. “Please, take off my
daughter's dress.”
The shock hitlike a punch to the gut. My mind reeled as Isabella echoed my thoughts aloud. “What?”
And then, as if on cue, she stepped forward, a smug smile on her face, standing beside her mother, the picture
of triumphant pettiness.
Monica's smile widened, taunting, enjoying every second. “You heard my mother, Ava. Take off my dress.”
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