Serving His New Bride

Despite Chloe’s visible hesitation at the staggering 1.3 million price tag hanging from the exquisite fabric, Declan remained unmoved. The astronomical cost did not register on his handsome face. He casually dismissed the exorbitant figure with a negligent flick of his wrist.

"Just as long as you like it. We'll take it," Declan stated smoothly. His voice carried that familiar, wealthy indifference Kendall had grown so accustomed to over their miserable years of marriage. Reaching into the inner pocket of his tailored suit, he retrieved a premium black card. He handed it over to the nearby shop assistant without a second thought.

Overjoyed by his lavish generosity, Chloe abandoned all pretense of composure. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him excitedly right in the middle of the brightly lit store.

"Declan, I love you!" Chloe cried out, her sweet voice echoing off the pristine glass display cases.

Watching this blatant display of affection, Kendall felt a sudden, sharp pang of inexplicable discomfort constrict her chest. It was a suffocating tightness, a ghost of the naive hope she used to harbor for this man. Yet, she forced her face to remain impassive. She swallowed down the bitter taste in her mouth and gestured with a crisp, professional nod for the sales transaction to proceed.

The nearby shop assistant stood frozen, her hands trembling as she held the sleek black card. She nervously hesitated, her wide eyes darting back and forth between the breathtaking gown and Kendall. The assistant knew full well that Kendall—operating under the elusive designer moniker Celine—had originally designed and painstakingly crafted this million-dollar wedding dress specifically for herself. It was a masterpiece of hidden lace and delicate beads, meant for a bridal march that never happened.

Kendall shot the assistant a hard, unyielding look. She tilted her chin, silently insisting they process the payment immediately.

In Kendall’s pragmatic mind, the logic was clear. She was already getting a divorce. The unsigned papers were waiting on his coffee table. Keeping a physical reminder of her failed marital hopes was utterly pointless. Letting the gown gather dust in a display case served no one. On the other hand, extorting a massive sum of money off the man who had ruined her life felt like a fantastically practical deal. A million-dollar parting gift for the neglect she endured.

Once the transaction was forcefully cleared, the assistant handed back the receipt with trembling fingers. It was time for the fitting.

Chloe, acting with a sudden wave of entitled authority, pointed a manicured finger directly at Kendall. She explicitly demanded that Kendall personally assist her in putting the gown on. "I want her to do it. I don't need anyone else touching the fabric."

Kendall paused. She shifted her gaze directly to Declan, genuinely wondering if he possessed the sheer audacity to allow his legally yet-to-be-divorced wife to physically dress his seamlessly integrated next wife. He stood under the shadow of the overhead spotlight with his hands resting casually in his pockets. The harsh lighting carved sharp angles across his elegant, indifferent features.

Meeting her gaze without a flicker of shame, Declan offered a polite, detached nod. "Sorry to trouble you, then," he said tenderly to Chloe, his words slicing through whatever lingering decency Kendall thought he might possess.

Kendall hid her inward sneer behind a soft, perfectly calibrated professional smile. Her lips curved up into a sickeningly sweet expression.

"This is no trouble at all," Kendall replied, her tone dripping with a polite venom only she could taste. "It’s part of my job. Don't worry. I'll be sure to serve your wife the best I can."

She retrieved the heavy, intricately beaded dress from the display, the familiar weight of the silk settling into her palms. She led Chloe toward the back of the boutique.

Inside the cramped, brightly lit changing room, the physical reality of the situation rapidly set in. The mirrored walls reflected the suffocating irony of the moment from every angle. The heavy silk weighed down on Kendall's arms as she maneuvered around the confined space. Every seam and pearl on this gown represented hours of her own sleepless nights, meticulously crafting what was supposed to be the symbol of her own lifelong commitment. Now, she was forcing it onto his mistress. Kendall struggled immensely to fit the heavy gown onto Chloe's body. The layers of tulle and silk cascaded around them, but the dress refused to yield.

Because the gown was meticulously tailored specifically to Kendall's own exact measurements and bodily proportions, the fit was a nightmare. Chloe possessed a beautiful figure, but her proportions differed just enough to make the process agonizing. The waistline proved far too tight.

Chloe sucked in her stomach, holding her breath until her face flushed a faint pink. Kendall tugged at the zipper, but the delicate fabric strained dangerously. The teeth of the zipper snagged, threatening to tear the expensive material. Sweat beaded on both their foreheads beneath the glaring vanity lights.

"It's... it's a bit snug," Chloe gasped out, shifting uncomfortably.

Realizing sheer force would ruin her own handiwork, Kendall stepped back. She hastily exited the changing room and returned a minute later with a pair of sharp tailoring scissors gleaming in her hand. Crouching down behind Chloe, Kendall gathered the inner layers of the dress. With a steady hand, she ruthlessly cut a few of the hidden locking stitches along the inner seams. The sharp snip of the blades echoed in the small space, severing the tight threads she had once sewn with such careful devotion.

The fabric loosened just enough. Kendall stood up and, gripping the zipper, finally managed to drag it all the way up to Chloe’s shoulder blades.

"There," Kendall murmured, her breathing slightly ragged from the physical exertion. She knelt again, her hands moving mechanically as she smoothed out the voluminous hem and adjusted the train around Chloe’s feet.

Standing before the full-length mirror, Chloe admired her sophisticated, stunning reflection. The dress elevated her appearance, wrapping her in an aura of undeniable elegance. She turned side to side, watching the pearls catch the light. As she basked in her own reflection, her eyes drifted down to Kendall through the mirror.

Chloe began to probe casually. "How long have you known my husband? You were speaking to him earlier in the lobby."

Kendall froze for a fraction of a second, her fingers lingering on a fold of silk. She stood up straight, brushing off her skirt, and met Chloe’s inquisitive gaze in the mirror. She replied with an incredibly calm, deadpan voice.

"He said that he got the wrong person."

Visibly relieved by the confirmation, Chloe relaxed her tense shoulders. She naturally assumed a powerful, elite man like Declan wouldn't possibly befriend a mere retail shop worker. A condescending smile touched Chloe’s lips.

"You're right," Chloe murmured, still admiring her reflection. "He's so busy every day. I doubt he has the time to associate with a small shop assistant like you. Working in a competitive place like this must be tough."

Reaching into her designer purse resting on the vanity chair, Chloe fished out a premium, gold-embossed business card. She turned around and haughtily tried to bribe Kendall—whom she assumed was merely the store manager—to illegally connect her with the studio's elusive genius designer.

"My husband likes the designs by Celine," Chloe boasted arrogantly, holding the card out between two manicured fingers. "He wants to order dresses from her for the long term for me, but I only want Celine's custom work. If it's possible, I want you to help set up a bridge between us and Celine. My husband is the president of Vance International. Money is no object for us. I can help you get more customers, too."

A wave of deep, cutting irony washed over Kendall, chilling her straight to the bone. Did Declan actually like her designs? Did he truly admire the craftsmanship of the dress right in front of him, oblivious to the truth? He was desperate to hire the revered 'Celine,' unaware that the genius designer was the very wife he had systematically neglected and despised for three whole years.

The sheer absurdity of the situation made Kendall want to laugh, but she maintained an aloof, unimpressed expression. She stared at the gold-embossed card and firmly refused to take it.

"Since your husband is so amazing, he should be able to contact Celine himself," Kendall stated coldly. "Why don't you ask him for this favor?"

Furious at being so blatantly rejected by someone she viewed as a lowly manager, Chloe's delicate face contorted into an ugly sneer. The sweet, innocent facade vanished in an instant, replaced by a vicious glare. She snatched her hand back.

"I forgot that people of your station won't have the chance to meet a well-known designer like that," Chloe snapped viciously.

Without another word, Chloe stepped forward and forcefully shoved Kendall toward the changing room door. The sudden physical push caught Kendall off guard.

Stumbling backward from the force of the shove, Kendall lost her footing. She crashed through the heavy curtain of the changing room door and bumped right into the solid, unyielding chest of an approaching Declan. The faint, familiar scent of cedar and expensive cologne filled her senses.

Hearing the commotion, Chloe stepped out of the changing room. Seeing Declan standing right there, she instantly dropped her aggressive demeanor. The ugly sneer evaporated, replaced by a pitiful, hyper-timid expression.

Chloe looked up at Declan, her big eyes glistening as her lips formed a distressed pout. She clutched the skirt of the million-dollar dress, shrinking back as if she had just endured a harrowing ordeal.

"Declan," Chloe whined softly, her voice trembling with manufactured distress, "will you please get me someone else? She has a really bad attitude."