JOAN’S POV
I hummed as I stitched the hem of a simple dress. Sewing always brought me a sense of peace. It was a way to center myself when the world outside felt overwhelming.
A sudden knock on the door broke my concentration, and I set the dress aside.
“Come in,” I called, pushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
The door opened to reveal Emily. When she saw me, her face lit up with excitement.
“Joan!” she exclaimed, stepping inside.
“Emily!” I got to my feet, crossing the room to hug her. “What are you doing here?”
She pulled back with a huge smile “I have the most amazing news. You’ll never believe it.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What is it?”
Emily glanced over her shoulder, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before turning back to me. “There’s someone here to see you. A fashion designer.”
I blinked in surprise. “A designer? What kind of designer?”
Emily grinned, practically bouncing on her heels. “Not just any designer. Hart Couture.”
I froze. The name sent a jolt through me.
“Hart Couture?” I repeated.
“Yes!” Emily grabbed my hands as she squealed. “She’s here, Joan. She’s waiting to see you.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. For a moment, I thought she was joking.
“Hart Couture? The Hart Couture? The one who designs for royalty and celebrities?”
Emily nodded eagerly. “The very same. Come on, she’s waiting!”
I followed Emily down the hall. Hart Couture was a name I associated with luxury. She was someone whose designs I admired from afar on TV and social media. I could hardly wrap my head around the idea that she was here, waiting for me.
When Emily stopped outside the sitting room, she turned to me “Ready?”
I swallowed hard. “I think so.”
Emily pushed open the door, and there she was-Hart Couture herself.
She stood in the center of the room. Her presence alone was magnetic. Her tailored suit fit her perfectly. Her hair was styled in an elegant bun, and her red lipstick added a bold pop of color. She turned as the door opened. Her eyes softened as they landed on me.
“Joan,” she said, stepping forward with a warm smile.
I froze in my tracks. I couldn’t help but feel …starstruck.
Ms. Couture,” I managed, my voice trembling.
“Please, call me Hart,” she said, closing the distance between us and pulling me into a hug.
I hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I said as we pulled apart.
Hart smiled “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” I said
I still felt as if I was dreaming. What’s Hart doing here? I wasn’t informed that I’d be having a visitor.
Hart gestured to the room, where her team was setting up laptops and unpacking materials. “I’m here to design your wedding dress, Joan. And I promise, it will be the most beautiful dress you’ve ever worn.”
The next few hours were surreal. Hart and I sat together, flipping through thick glossy brochures of past designs. She wanted my dress to be customized, to be special. We discussed everything from fabric to embroidery to the overall silhouette.
“I want the dress to reflect who you are,” Hart said “It’s not just about looking beautiful; it’s about feeling beautiful. It’s your special day. Your dress should be special as well”
I nodded. The lump in my throat grew larger. I couldn’t believe it. My wedding day was almost here. It was a day I looked forward to as a child. Now, I wasn’t so sure what I thought about it. Now…it just felt like a duty. It was a literal contract.
“I’ve always admired your work,” I said quietly. “But I never imagined this would happen to me.”
Hart smiled, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “You deserve it, Joan. Every bride deserves to feel like a queen on her wedding day.”
We laughed and chatted as we worked. Hart’s passion for her craft was evident in every detail, and I found myself growing more excited with every choice we made.
Her team worked alongside us, sketching designs and using their laptops to create 3D renderings of the dress. I watched in awe as the design began to take shape on the screen.
“It’s incredible,” I whispered, leaning closer.
Hart grinned. “Wait until you see it in person.”
When it was time for measurements, I stood in the center of the room as Hart’s assistants worked with her. They took notes and compared swatches of fabric against my skin tone.
“This is all so overwhelming,” I admitted, looking at Hart.
She laughed softly. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. But trust me, Joan-you’re going to look breathtaking.”
As the team packed up their materials, Hart turned to me with a smile.
“I’ll be back soon with the first fitting,” she promised. “In the meantime, don’t stress. Everything is under control.”
“Thank you,” I said “I don’t even know how to express how much this means to me.”
Hart smiled, pulling me into another hug. “You don’t have to. Just enjoy the process. This is your moment. And don’t let anyone take that from you.”
As the door closed behind her, I stood in the quiet room. My mind was still trying to process everything that had just happened.
My fingers grazed the edge of the brochure we’d been looking at and despite everything, a small smile spread across my face.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to believe that my wedding day might truly be something magical.
After Hart and her team left, the house felt strangely quiet. The living room, which had been buzzing with excitement and creativity just moments ago, now seemed almost too still. I stayed there for a moment, running my fingers over the fabric swatches Hart had left behind, before deciding to head to the dining hall.
I needed to clear my head and maybe grab a cup of tea. The events of the day had left me both tired and excited.
As I turned a corner in the corridor, I collided with something-or someone. Papers fluttered around me.
“Watch where you’re-” Derrick’s deep voice started, but then stopped abruptly as we both bent down to gather the fallen sheets.
“Derrick!” I exclaimed.
My cheeks flushed as I realized who I’d just bumped into.
He was crouched opposite me and suddenly, his blue eyes locked with mine for a brief, electrifying moment. The air between us seemed to shift. It became filled with an energy I couldn’t quite place. My breath hitched as our hands brushed over the same piece of paper.
His fingers were warm against mine, and the contact sent a shiver up my spine. We looked up at each other.
Derrick seemed to feel it too. For a fraction of a second, his usually cold and guarded expression softened, and I caught a glimpse of something vulnerable in his eyes. But just as quickly, his cold demeanor came back. He straightened, clutching the stack of papers.
“I’m so sorry,” I said as I hastily gathered the remaining sheets and held them out to him. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
Derrick stared at me for a moment. My heart pounded in the silence. Was he going to scold me? Or worse, dismiss me entirely?
To my surprise, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he took the papers from my hands, turned on his heel, and walked away without so much as a glance back.
I stood there, watching him as he left. My cheeks burned with embarrassment and disappointment. I had avoided him for so long, hoping to avoid moments like this, but now I found myself wishing he’d said something-anything.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I continued toward the dining hall. I had almost reached it when I narrowly avoided colliding with someone else.
“Oh, excuse me,” I said, looking up to find a young man standing before me.
He bowed his head slightly. “No need to apologize, miss. I should have been more careful.”
I studied him for a moment. He was unfamiliar but I remembered seeing him a few times in the mansion. I think he’s a new worker here.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” I said.
“I’m Jonas” he said, straightening. “I’m new here.”
“Welcome, Jonas” I said with a small smile, stepping aside to continue on my way. But before I could take more than a step.
“Miss Joan,” he said hesitantly.
I turned back, surprised that he’d addressed me so directly. “Yes?”
“How are the wedding preparations coming along?” he asked.
I froze, looking at him in shock. The engagement wasn’t public knowledge yet. Only a select few in the household knew about it. How could he possibly know?
“Excuse me?” I asked.
He gestured toward my hand.
“The ring,” he said with a slight smile. “It’s beautiful. It’s not hard to guess.”
I looked down at the ring on my finger.
“Oh,” I said, unsure of how else to respond.
Before I could question him further, Jonas stepped closer and his tone dropped a little.
“It’s a struggle to survive in this house,” he said, his eyes scanning the corridor as if ensuring no one else was nearby. “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
His words caught me off guard.
“Thank you,” I said slowly, unsure of what to make of his offer.
He smiled again, stepping back and bowing his head slightly. “Take care, miss.”
I watched as he walked away. There was something about him-his tone, his demeanor-that didn’t quite add up.
As I finally made my way to the dining hall, my thoughts were filled with confusion.
Who was he? And what the hell did he mean by that?