Ariana POV
Madame Desiree greeted them. Wearing an exquisite Oscar de la Renta pinstriped suit with a simple chic white blouse, she looked like the picture of French couture. Like the receptionist, she wore her hair in a chignon. Red lips, perfect nail polish, and flawless makeup, as well as a simple strand of pearls, completed the picture of a fashionista.
"Which of you is the bride-to-be?" she asked.
Ariana raised a shaking hand. "I am."
A quick, slow glance up and down. "Very wholesome," Madame Desiree complimented. "Pretty. We can make you into the most beautiful bride on your wedding day. Follow me."
She led Ariana to a forest of bridal gowns in all styles. Traditional. Modern. Wedding dresses that looked like 1950s glamour. Sleek, simple dresses with pearl buttons down the back.
"M'sieur Lyunov sent your measurements," Madame Desiree continued. "We have several offerings for you to try. What are you looking for?"
