Chapter 6
Camilla sat at her desk, staring at the sketch in front of her. She had been working on the design for hours, and it was finally coming together. This gown wasn’t just for any event–it was for the mafia banquet, the most awaited gathering of the year. She had poured every ounce of creativity into it, determined to stand out.
Her pencil hovered over the paper as her mind wandered. She remembered how things used to be–Jackson and Ridge sitting beside her, helping her perfect every detail. Jackson would point out what would pop under the banquet lights, while Ridge, ever the jokester, kept her motivated. But now, they were nowhere to be found. These days, their time revolved around Katie.
Camilla let out a small sigh and shook her head. She wasn’t going to dwell on that. This gown wasn‘ t for them–it was for her. And maybe, just maybe, it was for the
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man she was going to marry.
Colen Armand.
Even just thinking his name sent a jolt of curiosity and excitement through her. She had never met him, but his reputation preceded him. Colen was the mafia of all mafias, the one everyone whispered about but no one dared cross. People talked about his ruthlessness, his calculated moves, and the aura of power he carried. But who was he really? Was he as cold as the stories. made him out to be? Or was there more to
him?
Camilla let herself daydream for a moment. She imagined him walking into. the banquet, his presence alone commanding attention. Would he notice her? Would he see beyond the dress and actually see her?
“This has to be perfect,” she muttered, snapping herself out of it.
She leaned over the paper again, sketching
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Chapter 6
the final details. The gown had a fitted bodice that flowed into intricate layers, each one designed to shimmer under the golden lights of the banquet hall. Along the neckline, she added delicate
embellishments that would catch just enough attention without overdoing it.
Hours passed, and finally, it was done, She sat back, holding the sketch in her hands, and allowed herself a small, proud smile.
“This is it,” she said softly.
Her mind drifted briefly to Katie again. Lately, Katie had been everywhere, stealing attention in ways that rubbed Camilla the wrong way. Not just from Jackson and Ridge, but from moments that used to belong to her. It annoyed her, sure, but she wasn’t going to let it ruin her night–or
her gown.
“I’ll outshine everyone,” she murmured, determination sparking in her
eyes.
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Chapter 6
The next morning, Camilla took her sketch to her usual dressmaker shop. It was a place she trusted, a small boutique that had always brought her designs to life. She handed over the sketch to the seamstress, explaining every detail with precision.
“I want it exactly like this,” she said, her tone firm. “No changes.
The seamstress nodded. “Of course, Miss Camilla. We’ll start right away.”
Satisfied, Camilla left the shop feeling a little lighter. Her gown was in safe hands. Or so she thought.
A few days later, Camilla returned to the shop to check on her gown‘ s progress. The place seemed quieter than usual, and an uneasy feeling crept over her as she walked to the counter.
“I’m here to see my gown,” she said, excited, though the air felt off.
The seamstress froze for a moment before managing a nervous smile. “Oh… Miss
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Camilla, I thought you already picked it up?”
Camilla frowned. “Picked it up? I haven‘ t been here since I placed the order.”
The seamstress‘ face paled. “A friend from your group came by. She said you asked her to get it for you. She knew your name and described the design
perfectly…. We assumed it was okay…”
“What friend?” Camilla’s voice
sharpened.
“Blonde, tall. I think she said her name was Katie.”
Camilla’s heart sank, anger quickly bubbling to the surface. “Katie,” she hissed under her breath.
The seamstress gave her an apologetic look, but Camilla was too furious to
respond. Without another word, she turned and left the shop.
Camilla stormed into the house, her eyes
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locking on Katie, who was casually admiring herself in front of a mirror- wearing her gown.
“Katie,” she said coldly, stepping closer. “That’s my gown,” Camilla snapped, pointing at the dress. “How dare you steal it!”
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