[BONUS CHAPTER FOR VOTING 5 GOLDEN TICKETS IN A DAY. MORE TICKETS MORE CHAPTERS!!]
Isabella was forced to sit on a chair facing the mirror. "Don't cry!" He scolded her when she looked at her reflection.
She had to keep quiet because Luke was her boss and she just couldn't go against him. She widened her eyes not to cry so the makeup artist began her work.
The makeover was done in thirty minutes so he took her hand and asked if she was ready to face her mother. "We don't have to do this," she was being stubborn.
"You are my soon-to-be wife," he uttered, sounding as if he didn't care about her opinion. "You really don't have to say much, I'll do the talking and you play along, you hear me?" As they walked back to the hall, he asked.
Isabella didn't answer, she just clung to him tightly. "You hear me?" He asked again. So she looked up at him and nodded.
