Chapter 1

"Mr. Vance has asked to buy this dress for his fiancée —Mrs. Vance." The staff said to me.

Mrs. Vance?

So who am I?

And behind me, a young woman was wearing the wedding dress I'd designed for myself.

**********

I was checking my custom-made wedding dress at the bridal boutique.

I'm a fashion designer. I spent six months making my own gown, for a perfect, once-in-a-lifetime wedding.

And a young and pretty girl walked in.

The staff told me, "She's rejected ninety-nine dresses in the last three months."

"And she has a husband funding every single tantrum."

I saw the staff scramble to flatter her.

"This one." She turned around and saw my dress.

The manager told her that it is personalized customization with an apologetic smile.

She pulled out her phone and made a call.

Three minutes later, the manager came back to me and said in a low voice.

"Ms. Valerie, her husband already acquired the building's retail rights. He asked to buy her the wedding dress."

I didn't agree. How could I possibly agree to that?

One of the staff leaned close and murmured, "Valerie, you might want to think this over. She's Mrs. Vance. Stella Vance. She is the fiancée of the Vance Group's CEO. It's not worth the friction."

Mrs. Vance?

So who am I?

I didn't answer. I turned to the manager instead.

"Get me the contract, please."

She handed over the folder. I flipped straight to the last page.

There it was. A signature I would recognize anywhere. Bold, slanted, unmistakable.

Dominic Vance.

My blood ran cold. My fiancé, Dominic, was cheating on me.

My knees buckled. I grabbed a glass of water and forced the panic down my throat.

I looked up at the girl. She was watching me with a small and satisfied smile.

"You're a designer, right?" she said pleasantly.

"Imagine the exposure when people see your dress at my wedding. Could really put your name on the map."

I stared at her for a long moment. Then I said yes.

Stella clapped her hands and headed toward the private dressing room. I offered to do her makeup.

"My husband doesn't let me share a vanity with other clients," she said, waving me in.

"Everything in here—he had it all bought fresh. Brand new, just for me."

I smiled. "He spoils you."

She pouted, but her eyes were glowing.

"He could at least show up when I try on dresses. I've been here so many times, and today he's too busy."

The staff laughed flatterly. "Mr. Vance has come almost every single time. Today must be a real emergency."

Stella's pout melted into a grin. "Fine. He would be here if he could."

I picked up the brush and started on her brows.

She glanced at me in the mirror.

"Hey—was that dress supposed to be a gift for someone? Why did the staff say it wasn't for sale?"

I paused. Then I smiled. "I designed it for myself."

Stella blinked. For a moment she actually looked embarrassed.

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

She said sorry. But she didn't look like she was letting go of the dress.

She caught my eye in the mirror and gave me a little cute wink.

"It's just—you know how picky I am. I've turned down nearly a hundred dresses. This is the first one I've loved." She tilted her head.

"You're so talented. I'm sure you can design yourself something even better. I believe in you!"

I laughed softly and shook my head.

"It's fine," I said. "I'm not in a rush."