Asher and Lucy walked in.
He wore a white tuxedo paired with black pants, accented by golden buttons, golden wrist cuffs, and gold-hemmed edges.
Though he was not wearing any accessories, his face alone was enough to make every woman steal a second glance—only to then glance at their own partners and realize how much they were lacking.
This irritated some of the men. They narrowed their eyes, trying to find at least one flaw—bad posture, an awkward stride, maybe even a slightly uneven eyebrow.
Nothing.
He was flawless. Their frustration only grew, some even straightening their own backs or subtly adjusting their collars, as if that would somehow level the playing field.
Their attention turned to his bride.
She wore an elegant black and red dress that flowed along the floor, its length resembling those typically worn at weddings.
Unlike the usual designs, however, hers was adorned with countless tiny red gems, each sparkling individually under the light.
