The Belated Bride: Becoming My Own Muse Chapter 18

The Belated Bride: Becoming My Own Muse Chapter 18

I got into the car.

Before the window rolled up, I saw Christian standing on the front steps, Bianca running out and grabbing at his sleeve.

But for the first time, he didn’t turn around to look at her.

And what did that matter?

When a belated sense of priority lands on a heart that has already gone cold, all that’s left is ash.

Five days before the show, Bianca issued a public apology.

The statement was cleverly written.

She said she hadn’t known the dress was a registered showpiece. She also claimed she hadn’t been aware her assistant had altered the design. She was willing to take corresponding responsibility.

The entire apology avoided the word “theft.” It didn’t mention Christian. And it didn’t explain how she had obtained the dress in the first place.

Half the comments were people sympathizing with her.

[ Bee’s a victim here too, isn’t she? Mrs. Van Ness is really overreacting. ]

[ It’s literally just a dress. Rich people love to make a scene. ]

[ Bianca already apologized. What more do some people want? ]

Tara was so outraged she was slamming the table.

“Claire, she’s pinned the entire thing on her assistant.”

I was in the middle of adjusting the seating chart for the show.

“That’s normal.”

Bianca wanted to save face. The Van Ness family wanted to save face.

Naturally, they were going to try to spin this whole mess down into a simple misunderstanding.

But I had no intention of letting it remain just a misunderstanding.

That afternoon, I received an anonymous email.

Attached was an audio file.

I clicked it open. It was Bianca’s assistant’s voice.

“Bee, are we really going to cover up that embroidery on the inside? What if Mrs. Van Ness finds out…”

Bianca’s voice was light as air.

“If we don’t cover it, so everyone can see ‘May I finally become my own bride’ when the photos come out? That would be a slap in Chris’s face, wouldn’t it.”

The assistant murmured, “But it’s still Mrs. Van Ness’s dress.”

Bianca laughed softly.

“Mrs. Van Ness? She won’t be for very long.”

The recording ended there.

I stared at the screen, my fingers frozen for a long time.

Not because of Bianca.

Her cruelty was straightforward.

What really made me stop was the fact that she already knew about the words stitched inside the hem.

She knew it wasn’t just any dress.

She knew it was the last scrap of dignity I had saved for myself.

And that was precisely why she wanted it covered.