Chapter 17 - The Wedding Dress

Planning a billionaire wedding without the interference of Aunt Elena or a snobbish board of directors turned out to be remarkably simple.
Three weeks later, on a crisp Saturday afternoon, the North Avenue estate’s private glass conservatory—a soaring architectural marvel filled with exotic orchids, towering ferns, and natural sunlight—was transformed into an intimate sanctuary.
There were no two hundred society elites judging department-store dresses. There were no corporate rivals or gossiping relatives.
There was only Sophia, standing beside me in a stunning emerald-green bridesmaid dress, adjusting the intricate lace veil of my gown.
"I still can't believe this is real," Sophia whispered, her eyes shining with happy tears as she looked at me in the mirror. "You look like a queen, Jess. A literal queen."
I turned slowly, inspecting my reflection. The dress was a masterpiece of ivory silk and delicate Chantilly lace, custom-tailored in Milan and delivered via private courier three days prior. It wasn't about status or price tags; it was about stepping into a version of myself that was worthy of love, respect, and absolute security.
A soft knock at the dressing room door interrupted us.
"Come in," I called out.
The door opened, and Lily waddled in, wearing a miniature ivory flower-girl dress that matched mine, holding a small woven basket filled with white rose petals. Tucked under her arm, naturally, was her battered gray rabbit, which now sported a tiny silk bow tie pinned to its ear by Sophia.
"Mommy," Lily announced seriously, walking up and tugging on my skirt. "Mr. Hops says you look very pretty. Can we eat cake now?"
Sophia and I both burst out laughing.
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"Not yet, sweetheart," I smiled, kneeling down to adjust her flower crown. "First, we have to go outside and watch me marry Giovanni."
"Okay," Lily agreed readily. "As long as there's chocolate cake afterward."