Chapter 341

Evelyn's lips curled into a knowing smirk. Her fingertips traced the intricate beadwork along the bodice of the dazzling gown. "Alexander has impeccable taste. He remembered every single one of my measurements."

Victoria's face contorted in disbelief. "W-What did you just say?"

"Having trouble understanding English?" Vivian arched an eyebrow, swaying gracefully toward the vanity. The boutique staff rushed to adjust the train of her dress.

She moved with regal elegance, stopping inches from Victoria's fuming face. "Do you honestly believe this dress was meant for you?"

Victoria's eyes bulged with rage. "Vivian Prescott, take that dress off immediately! Alexander commissioned this for me! I'm supposed to wear this at our wedding! Who do you think you are, wearing my wedding gown?"

Her voice rose to a shrill pitch before suddenly dropping into a mocking tone.

"Vivian, I know you're obsessed with Alexander, but he's my fiancé. Our wedding is in forty-eight hours. What you're doing right now? Textbook mistress behavior. Is this how the founder of Lady Belle conducts herself?"

The boutique staff exchanged uncomfortable glances.

Vivian merely chuckled. "If we're discussing mistresses, I could never hold a candle to you, Miss Lancaster."

Victoria's face drained of color. As she opened her mouth to retaliate, Vivian continued, "All of Willowbrook knows Alexander divorced Evelyn Sinclair three years ago. Yet you have a two-year-old son with him. Doesn't that make you the gold-standard homewrecker?"

The whispered gasps from the staff made Victoria's hands tremble violently.

"You lying bitch! Get out of my dress NOW!" Victoria shrieked, her manicured nails digging into her palms.

She whirled toward the frozen staff. "What are you idiots waiting for? Strip that dress off her! Alexander ordered this for ME!"

The manager cleared her throat awkwardly. "Miss Lancaster, actually this particular gown—"

"Useless imbeciles!" Victoria lunged forward, fingers clawing toward the delicate fabric.

Vivian caught her wrist mid-air with surprising strength. Their eyes locked—one pair blazing with fury, the other gleaming with cold amusement.

"Careful with your language, Victoria. Call me that again and I'll make sure you regret it." With a sharp twist, she sent Victoria stumbling backward.

"You—"

"Let me refresh your memory," Vivian interrupted smoothly. "Yesterday you called specifically to gloat about Alexander accompanying you for fittings. Bragged about your seven-figure wedding dress."

She adjusted a diamond-encrusted sleeve with deliberate slowness. "Yet here we are—no Alexander, no dress for you. Who's really the unworthy one here, Victoria?"

Victoria's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Her face turned an alarming shade of puce as she raised her hand to strike.

A glacial voice cut through the tension like an arctic wind. "Enough."

Victoria froze mid-swing, her expression morphing into pitiful vulnerability as she turned.

Alexander stood framed in the doorway, his tailored tuxedo accentuating his powerful frame. The sharp angles of his jawline seemed even more pronounced under the boutique's chandeliers.

"Alexander!" Victoria cooed, rushing to cling to his arm. "I knew you'd come! You wouldn't let me do my final fitting alone, would you?"

She shot Vivian a triumphant look. "See, Miss Prescott? My fiancé is here for me. Now will you finally remove what doesn't belong to you? For Alexander's sake, I might forgive this little stunt."