Even if Gianna didn''t harbor any romantic feelings for Jonathan, watching Anneliese —a woman who had constantly shed with her im a man at the very peak of power ignited a fire of jealousy within her.
Why does Anneliese always seem to get her way, while I stumble at every turn?
Her professional achievements were constantly eclipsed by this rival, the man she secretly admired was caught up with Anneliese''s tacky friend, and now even her family appeared to favor Anneliese openly.
It felt as though this woman existed solely to ruin her.
When Wendy picked up her phone, leaned over to show Anneliese something, and smiled while they exchanged words, their heads nearly touching as they viewed the screen, Gianna could no longer contain herself.
With a sharp scrape, she dragged her chair back and stood, drawing every eye in the room. She moved behind Ellie''s seat, curiosity thick in her tone.
"Mom, what are you and Anneliese sneaking a look at? Can I take a look as well?"
She leaned in, her expression innocent and inviting, making it awkward to exclude her.
Anneliese replied casually, "It''s a wedding dress design Madam Chalmont made for me."
Truthfully, Gianna didn''t even need the answer-her eyes had already taken in the sketch.
Though unfinished, the design clearly reflected careful thought, and one nce had Giannapletely captivated.
Soft gray watercolor shaded the base, shaping a sweeping A-line gown. On pearlescent fabric, thousands of tiny pearls formed delicate vine patterns, tracing the curves of the figure.
Below the high waist, the skirt flowed like fog, falling with the luminescence of moonlight. Eachyer of the tiered design would be studded with miniature teardrop diamonds, sparkling as the bride moved.
Gianna''s fingers clenched the chair behind her, her breathing growing shallow.
The sketch stirred a memory. She realized instantly that she had seen it before— back when she had just turned eighteen.
She had wandered into Wendy''s studio by chance and spotted the sketch lying on the desk, and had been entranced.
It was breathtaking, the kind of dress any young woman would dream of elegant, romantic, both alluring and pure.
She had picked it up, unable to tear her eyes away. "Mom, is this yourtest design? It''s stunning!"
Wendy, who was adjusting a veil on
a model, noticed her and caught sight of the sketch in Gianna''s hands. Her expression darkened as sh? hurried over, snatching it back like it was priceless.
Gianna had been disappointed, pouting and pleading.
"Mom, I love this one! Is it meant for a client? Make another for them-keep this one for my wedding! Please, I adore it."
She clung to Wendy''s arm, but Wendy tucked the sketch into a drawer and closed it firmly.
"No. This isn''t for you."
"Why? I''m your daughter. Don''t you want me to wear your finest design as a bride?"
She begged, her heart on her sleeve,
but Wendy refused. She said Gianna was too young that the piece wasn''tplete, and swiftly changed the topic.
IMS
Over the following year, Gianna kept watch, curious to see who might eventually wear that dress.
No one ever did.
Wendy had preserved the design in secret, refining it over time—and now, she was giving it to Anneliese.
Gianna stared at the screen, her eyes radiating a venom that could almost burn through the disy.
Thank heavens she was standing; her loweredshes masked the fury inside.
"Mom..." Hershes fluttered, misted with hurt, as her words lodged somewhere in her throat.
She wasn''t Wendy''s biological
daughter, fine. But they were family, and stre had looked up to Wendy as
her mom for over twenty years.
Could I really be worth less than Anneliese, who has hardly spent any time with Mom?
She couldn''tprehend how Wendy could hand this treasured wedding gown to Anneliese instead of saving it for her.
The pain was sharp, stabbing.
Gianna thought that even if she endured it in silence, Wendy would sense the full weight of her anguish and resentment.