Chapter 3

And Xavier actually agreed to it.

Since he had no objections, I certainly didn't care.

If something went wrong, it wouldn't be my reputation on the line anyway—it would be the entire Sinclair family's.

On the day of the wedding dress fitting, I pushed open the door of the VIP suite only to find Chloe had arrived even earlier than me.

What was even more glaring was that she was currently wearing the main custom bridal gown I had reserved for myself.

Seeing us enter, her eyes immediately locked onto Xavier’s face.

Xavier was visibly stunned, a flash of undeniable, instinctual awe darting through his eyes.

He blurted out,

"Damn. You actually look decent in a wedding dress."

Chloe playfully punched his shoulder, her voice dripping with artificial intimacy.

"So? Am I beautiful?"

"Incredibly beautiful!"

I shrugged indifferently. It was just a dress.

Remembering something highly amusing, a slightly wicked grin spread across my face.

"Well, at least you saved me the trouble of trying it on myself. How does it feel?"

Chloe, likely wanting to create a playful, slightly suggestive atmosphere, said dismissively,

"Ugh, honestly, I am so not used to these dresses. It feels a bit drafty down there."

She paused, waiting for Xavier to let his imagination run wild and blush.

Instead, Xavier’s face instantly darkened, contorting into an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.

"Can you say something that isn't completely repulsive for once?!"

Chloe was utterly bewildered, freezing in place like a deer in headlights.

Standing to the side, I let out a silent laugh.

When Xavier first hired me, he did so because he loved my tomboyish, ultra-cool vibe.

When we signed the contract, he explicitly demanded that I keep my "natural self."

I got it. Rich guys always loved a bit of contrast.

So, for one major charity gala, I decided to shock him. I wore a stunning, high-slit designer gown.

When Xavier saw me, his eyes looked exactly like they did just now—stunned, burning with an unprecedented heat.

The atmosphere that night was perfect. He pinned me against the hotel room door, kissing me with frantic hunger.

Until his hand slid up my gown...

And felt the strap-on harness I had put on as a joke.

He practically leaped back as if he’d been hit by a taser. "Avery, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"

Even though he scolded me multiple times afterward for "messing around," I kept doing it. Every time I had to wear a dress, I wore the harness.

I thought he’d find it thrilling and kinky.

Instead, Xavier developed severe, psychological PTSD toward "women in dresses."

Looking at anyone in a gown now triggered a deeply uncomfortable mental association for him.

I had actually planned to wear a custom bridal pantsuit for the wedding anyway.

I only ordered this gown because I heard Chloe wanted to be a bridesmaid, knowing she’d try to snatch it.

Chloe's comment about it being "drafty down there" had precisely detonated Xavier's psychological landmine.

Pinching his temples, Xavier spoke with lingering disgust and absolute authority.

"Chloe, you're not being a bridesmaid anymore. Just looking at you makes me uncomfortable."

Chloe had no idea what she had done wrong. She put the entire blame on my tab, her eyes shooting literal poison at me.

She was kicked out of the bridal party.

But I clearly underestimated Chloe’s sheer persistence and flexibility.

A few days later, I received the final wedding itinerary.

Indeed, Chloe's name was gone from the bridesmaid list.

But she had somehow managed to get herself listed as a groomsman instead!