The Celeste bridal studio buzzed with creative chaos. Swatches of silk fluttered on pinboards, mood boards stretched from floor to ceiling, and a team of assistants moved like clockwork between fittings and florists. In the center of it all stood Mira, headset on, phone tucked into her shoulder, clipboard in hand.
"Two white orchid arches, not one," she said sharply, tapping her pen against the paper. "Yes, because Liyana asked for symmetry. And don't let the lilies overpower the aisle. They're for the reception, not the ceremony."
A snort came from behind her. "Remind me never to cross you in a flower shop," said Aiden Zheng, sauntering in with rolled-up sleeves and a coffee in each hand. "Black. Two sugars. Don't say I don't know you."
Mira took the coffee without looking at him. "You still spelled my name wrong on the schedule."
"I added a heart next to it. That balances it out."
She gave him a sideways glance, the corner of her lips twitching despite herself.
The day's task was straightforward on paper: finalize the wedding color scheme, coordinate vendor rehearsals, and prepare Damien and Liyana's private pre-wedding itinerary. In practice, it meant balancing egos, aesthetics, and a thousand moving parts.
Aiden leaned against the table, looking through the seating layout. "Who's sitting next to Qin Xieren?"
Mira looked up, her tone sharp. "No one. She's not on the list."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?"
"She tried leaking stories about Liyana's dress designer. She's blacklisted." Mira paused. "Zhen said he'd personally uninvite anyone who tried to sneak her in."
Aiden chuckled. "Remind me to never get on Zhen's bad side."
"You're already on my bad side."
"Don't worry. I like it here."
Their banter masked the tension that had been slowly building for weeks. From the moment they were assigned as co-coordinators for the wedding, they'd clashed over every detail—from napkin colors to the cake tier designs. And yet, somehow, it worked.
When they weren't bickering, they were brilliant together.
Mira handed him the finalized call sheet. "Check the time Damien's supposed to arrive at the vineyard. He's scheduled to approve the fireworks lineup."
Aiden scanned the paper. "Done. He'll be there at five. And don't worry—I'll handle the press hounds so Liyana doesn't have to."
Her expression softened. "Thanks. She's been under enough pressure."
A beat passed. Then another.
Aiden set down his coffee. "You really care about her."
"She's my boss," Mira said, almost too quickly. "But... she's also my friend. She gave me everything when no one else would. Of course I care."
Aiden nodded. "She did the same for me. Took a chance on me when people thought I was just a pretty face and fading fame."
Mira looked at him now—really looked.
"You're not fading," she said quietly. "And you're not just a pretty face."
For a moment, the tension changed. It wasn't work stress anymore. It was something quieter. Something that hummed beneath the surface like the low thrum of violin strings before a crescendo.
Before either of them could say anything else, Mira's phone buzzed.
"Catering's late," she muttered, snapping back to reality. "We're moving the tasting to 4:30. Can you stall Liyana's mom? She's on her way."
Aiden stood straight, saluting playfully. "Anything for you, boss."
As he walked off, Mira stared after him, her fingers tightening around the clipboard.
Something was changing between them. She felt it in the stolen glances, the way their arguments had softened into flirtation, and how he'd started calling her by her full name again—Mira, not Assistant Xu.
By the end of the day, the final pieces of the wedding puzzle were nearly complete.
Liyana's dress had arrived.
Damien's vow was tucked into a velvet box.
And Mira… Mira stood in the middle of the studio, watching Aiden flirt with a violinist, her heart caught somewhere between irritation and curiosity.
Maybe weddings had a way of revealing truths.
And maybe—just maybe—this one wasn't only about Damien and Liyana.