“It fits… perfectly,” Isabella whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief.

The gown felt as if it had been made specifically for her. Every seam, every curve, every delicate embellishment seemed to mold to her body as though it were a second skin.

Henry watched from behind her, his expression one of quiet awe.

“Ms. Sterling truly misses nothing,” he remarked, clearly impressed.

Isabella nodded slowly, her fingertips tracing the intricate beadwork. But a question lingered in her mind. How had Olivia known her exact size? They’d only spoken briefly over a video call. Measurements were never discussed.

Meanwhile, after pulling an all-nighter at the office, exhaustion weighed heavily on Ethan. Then Sophia appeared—sweeping into the room with effortless grace, linking her arm through his.

“Ethan, come help me choose a dress,” she cooed, her voice dripping with sweetness. “We’re attending the Starlight Gala together tonight. Please? I need your opinion.”

Ethan glanced down at her, weariness clouding his sharp gaze. He had no desire to go shopping. But after a brief pause, he relented.

“Fine,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “Where to?”

Sophia’s face brightened instantly, excitement flashing in her eyes.

“Dior!” she chirped, already pulling him toward the door. “I’ve been dreaming of their moonlight tulle gown!”

Dior was the epitome of luxury. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a brilliant glow across the pristine boutique. Mannequins adorned in breathtaking gowns stood like silent sentinels, each more exquisite than the last. Sophia moved between the racks like a whirlwind, her energy boundless.

She sifted through layers of silk, lace, and tulle. Every so often, she selected a gown, holding it against herself with a dramatic twirl.

“Ethan,” she called, spinning around with a strapless pink gown. “What do you think?” She struck a pose, as if already envisioning herself under the gala lights.

Ethan’s eyes briefly met hers before he gave a slight nod.

“It’s beautiful. It suits you.”

But Sophia pouted, playing with the fabric between her fingers.

“Hmm… but I still think the moonlight tulle would be better!”

Before Ethan could respond, a uniformed attendant approached, bowing slightly in his direction.

“Mr. Blackwood, the moonlight tulle gown you ordered has already been delivered to Hawthorne Residence.”

Sophia’s smile vanished. She turned to Ethan, her eyes wide with shock.

“You… gave it away?”

A tense silence filled the space before Ethan realized his error. He flexed his fingers, then cleared his throat.

“That gown… it isn’t really your style.”

“Not my style?” Sophia repeated, her voice rising.

“Then why did you order it? And who did you give it to?”

Ethan pressed his lips into a thin line, irritation flickering in his eyes. He offered no answer. He didn’t owe one.

“Ethan, have you forgotten…?” Sophia’s voice wavered, laced with a desperate attempt to remind him of their past.

Ethan exhaled sharply, his patience thinning.

“Sophia, don’t.”