[IRAYA]
The dress arrived in an elegant, silver box tied with a deep crimson ribbon.
At first, I ignored it, pretending it didn't exist, but the sharp knock on my door followed by a single, unmistakable note—From Lyander—reminded me that I couldn't escape this evening.
The dress was stunning, a masterpiece of shimmering white silk with delicate lace details that ran along the hem and neckline. It looked like something plucked out of a fairy tale, the kind of dress meant to turn heads and leave an impression.
The problem wasn't the dress; it was what it represented—an obligation I couldn't refuse.
I sighed as I slipped into the gown, knowing full well that saying no to Lyander 'the devil' De Dantis was never an option. It wasn't because he would force me—no, that wasn't his style. It was because he carried an air of silent authority that made disobedience feel . . . wrong. You didn't reject Lyander. You just didn't.
