Bianca's POV
The doorbell of Blissful Bride Boutique chimed as I walked in. The air smelled of expensive perfume, champagne, and desperation. I checked my watch for the third time in five minutes.
"They're late," I muttered to myself.
The bridal consultant, a skinny woman with an anxious smile, hovered nearby. "Miss Clairemont is running a bit behind schedule. Perhaps you'd like some champagne while you wait?"
"No, thanks." I sat down on one of the white satin chairs. "I'm not surprised she's late. Consideration isn't in Isabella's vocabulary."
The woman's smile tightened, but she backed away.
I was only here because Julian was paying me an obscene amount of money to play nice with his daughter. My job description: companion, advisor, and spy. The things I did for money and revenge.
The boutique's door flew open with dramatic force. Isabella stormed in, her mother Clara trailing behind her like an anxious shadow.