Chapter 129: Fuck Traditions
Gianna’s POV
“As a DeLuca bride, you must outshine everyone,” the head stylist said for the third time, her voice breathless with excitement. “Signor DeLuca has given us carte blanche. Whatever you desire, we’ll make it happen.”
“We can custom–make anything,” another assistant chimed in. “Any design, any fabric. We have the finest lace from Belgium, silk from….”
“Perhaps we should start with what we have?” I suggested gently, overwhelmed by their enthusiasm.
They brought out dress after dress. Beaded creations that weighed more than I did. Sleek modern gowns that were out of this world.
For the next hour, I became a living doll. They dressed me and redressed me, one gown after another, until I was finally squeezed into a ball gown so full and heavy I could barely move in it.
Arielle sat cross–legged on the sofa, acting as my junior fashion consultant. “That one makes you look like a cupcake,” she declared about the puffy ball gown.
I laughed, catching Dante’s daughter’s eye in the mirror. “A cupcake?”
“A very expensive cupcake,” she amended with a grin before flopping dramatically into one of the velvet chairs. “How are there literally a million dresses and none of them are perfect?”
I managed a few steps toward her, the skirt swallowing my legs, the weight of the ball gown dragging me down. By the time I reached the seat, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I dropped back onto it, breathless, trapped in layers of fabric.
I laughed and sank down beside her. “Maybe I’m being too picky.”
“No way.” Arielle shook her head, completely serious. Sometimes she was far too smart for her age. This is your wedding dress. It has to be perfect. It has to make you feel like… I don’t know. Like you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”
I glanced at her with a small smile. “You sound like you’re better at this than I am.” I tilted my head. “Do you want to be the bride instead?”
Arielle recoiled. “Ew. No. That would mean I’d have to marry my dad.” She made a face. “I could not deal with his grumpy nature. Ever.”
“He’s actually not that bad,” I responded before I could stop myself.
Arielle’s brows shot up.
I hesitated, surprised at myself for defending him. Then I shrugged. “He’s just… intense. And controlling sometimes. Which can be annoying. But not terrible.”
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Chapter 120 Fuck Traditions
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Arielle stared at me, then grinned. “That’s why you’re the bride,” she teased. “Love really does make people blind.”
I chuckled. “We are talking about your dad, okay?”
“Still,” she said smugly. “If he hears this, I’m telling him you defended him.”
“Absolutely not,” I said quickly. “I promised myself I’d deny this conversation ever happened.”
I managed to stand and turned back toward the head stylist.
She stepped closer, already directing her assistants. Together, they rolled out two mannequins and positioned them in front of me.
“Our grand diamond–beaded collection,” she said smoothly. “The most exclusive.”
My gaze drifted between the gowns.
One was diamond–beaded, cut in a mermaid silhouette. Fitted through the waist and hips, flaring out at the hem. It was the kind of dress that would highlight every curve without losing its grace. Sexy. Classy. It felt like me.
The other was impossible to ignore. A high slit that climbed unapologetically up the thigh. Bare skin and
scandalous. The kind of dress that didn’t ask for permission.
One of the assistants smiled knowingly. “Classic elegance,” she gestured to the first. “Or modern
temptation.”
I was torn between what felt like me and the temptation to try something different.
I lifted my hand and pointed. “The second one first.”
Who knows.
Two dresses stood out from the rest. I stared at them in their mannequins, a figure–hugging mermaid gown that would showcase every curve, and a classic ball gown with a fitted bodice and full skirt that made me feel like royalty.
“I can’t decide,” I admitted, looking between them.
Arielle hopped up, circling both dresses with a critical eye. “The mermaid one is sexy. Very… you know.” She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically. “Dad would definitely….”
“Arielle!”
She giggled. “But the ball gown is princess–like. It’s more… wedding–y.”
An assistant appeared with glasses of champagne. “For you both.”
“She’s fourteen,” I said quickly.
“Sparkling cider for the young miss,” the woman corrected with a warm smile.
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Chapter 129 Farck Traditions
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Arielle took a sip, then suddenly bounced on her heels. “I really need to pee.”
I immediately straightened, my protective instincts kicking in. “I’ll come with you….”
“Miss Gianna, I’m not five.”
“I know, but…” I turned to the nearest assistant. “Can you please take her to the restroom and make sure she gets back to her father safely?”
The woman nodded eagerly. “Of course, Mrs. DeLuca.”
Arielle rolled her eyes as they headed toward the door. “You’re acting like Dad. All paranoid and overprotective.”
“Your father has good reasons to be careful,” I called after her.
She turned at the doorway, grinning. “I’ll be fine. Uncle Bruno is probably lurking out there somewhere anyway. You know how he is.”
I knew. Dante’s men had the entire store surrounded. Still, my chest didn’t ease until she disappeared
with the assistant.
I had no choice but to trust she’d be fine.
A few minutes later, I stood on the podium in front of the mirror, the scandalous dress draped over me.
It clung to my body in all the right places, the high slit daringly showing one leg after the other. The fabric hugged my curves, tight at the waist, smooth over my hips, teasing without shame.
“Take your time,” the assistant said softly. “We’ll step back and give you a few minutes alone.”
They stepped out, the door closing behind them, and the room fell silent.
I drew in a slow breath. 1
The dress was stunning. I traced the diamonds along the bodice with my fingers, wondering if they were real. Each sparkle caught the light, dazzling and beautiful.
This must have cost a fortune. Dante was sparing no expense.
The dress was perfect. I liked it. Truly, I did.
But even so, it didn’t quite feel like me.
Maybe it was just nerves. Maybe I was overthinking this. Maybe…
The dressing room door opened.
My heart jumped, and I turned, expecting Arielle or one of the assistants.
It wasn’t either.
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Chapter 129 Fuck Traditions
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Dante stood in the doorway. His dark eyes locked onto me at once, and the look on his face made everything inside me still.
His gaze moved over me slowly, starting at my face, sliding down the line of my throat. It lingered at my chest, the swell of my breasts framed by the sweetheart neckline, then followed the delicate beading down my torso, over my waist.
Then he noticed the slit.
The bare skin of my thigh.
Raw anger flashed in his eyes, as if nothing else in the room existed but me.
My breath hitched.
“Dante,” I hissed, lifting my hands as if I could somehow cover myself, even though I was fully dressed. My fingers shook against the bodice, painfully aware of how much skin the neckline revealed. “What are you doing? You can’t be in here.”
“Can’t I?”
He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, unbothered.
“It’s bad luck,” I snapped, my voice dropping. “You’re not supposed to see the dress before the wedding.
It breaks tradition.”
“Fuck luck.” He pushed off the door and walked toward me, that familiar confidence in every step, the kind that always made my pulse spike. “And fuck tradition.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
