Chapter 80 Wedding Dress Hunting
Alicia Davenport
The boutique was overwhelmingly white.
Everywhere I looked, delicate lace, flowing silks, and sparkling beadwork gleamed under the soft lights. The place reeked of luxury, and I had no doubt that my mother had chosen only the best wedding dress shop in the city.
Lucky me.
I sighed, glancing at Cindy, who stood beside me looking just as uninterested as I felt.
“If I suffocate under all this tulle, you better tell them I died dramatically,” I muttered under my breath.
Cindy smirked. “I’ll make sure they carve it on your tombstone: ‘Death by excessive wedding fluff.’”
I snorted, but my moment of amusement was very short-lived.
“Stand up straight, Alicia,” my mother chided, her sharp gaze flicking between me and the rows of gowns. “And pay attention. This is important.”
“Right,” I said dryly. “Because choosing a dress for an arrangement wedding is the most critical thing I could be doing today.”
She ignored my sarcasm and waved over a consultant, a polished woman

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