CHAPTER 20 – "Nothing Less Than Perfect"
Zara Valtoria did not settle.
Not in business.
Not in lifestyle.
And definitely not in something as permanent as a wedding.
If this was going to happen—
Then it would not just be grand.
It would be unforgettable.
The next morning, the mansion was no longer quiet.
It was… alive.
Designers.
Planners.
Assistants.
Security.
Staff moving in coordinated chaos, every detail being executed with precision.
The largest living area had been transformed into a temporary planning suite.
Fabric samples covered entire tables.
Jewelry catalogs lay open.
3D renderings of stage designs rotated slowly on massive screens.
Zara stood at the center of it all.
Dressed in a sleek white silk outfit, diamonds resting lightly against her collarbone, her hair perfectly styled—effortless perfection.
And yet—
Her expression said one thing.
Nothing here was enough.
"This is basic," she said flatly.
The head wedding planner—one of the most sought-after in the world—visibly stiffened.
"Miss Valtoria, this design is valued at—"
"I don't care about the price," Zara cut in smoothly.
"I care about the impact."
Silence.
Sienna, seated nearby, smirked slightly.
"She's in a mood," she murmured.
Cassian didn't look up from the sketches he was reviewing.
"She's always in a mood," he replied calmly.
Zara picked up one of the design boards.
Studied it.
Then dropped it back onto the table.
"I want something no one has ever seen before," she said.
A pause.
"Not something copied from another billionaire's wedding."
The planner nodded quickly, already adjusting notes.
"Of course, we can redesign the entire concept—"
"Not can," Zara corrected.
"Will."
Across the room—
Lucien Valtieri watched everything unfold.
Silent.
Observant.
He hadn't interfered once.
Hadn't stopped her.
Hadn't corrected her.
Because this?
This was her domain.
But he was learning.
"You're rejecting everything," he said calmly.
Zara didn't look at him.
"Because everything is rejectable."
Lucien stepped closer.
"Then what exactly are you looking for?"
Zara turned slowly.
Meeting his gaze.
"Something that makes people uncomfortable with how much it costs," she said.
A pause.
"Something they'll talk about for years."
Lucien studied her for a moment.
Then—
He nodded.
"Done."
Zara's brow lifted slightly.
"You don't even know what that looks like yet," she said.
Lucien's lips curved faintly.
"I don't need to."
A pause.
"I'll make sure it happens."
That confidence again.
Zara held his gaze for a second longer.
Then turned away.
"Good," she said.
But this time—
There was less resistance in her voice.
........
If the wedding was going to be unmatched—
Then the dress?
Had to be impossible.
Designers from across the world had flown in overnight.
Some invited.
Some desperate enough to request a meeting.
Zara sat in the center of the private fitting room, reviewing sketches one after another.
"This is predictable."
Next.
"This has been done."
Next.
"This looks like something Elena would wear."
Sienna burst into laughter.
"That's harsh."
Zara didn't smile.
"I'm serious."
Cassian finally stepped forward, placing a new sketch in front of her.
"This one isn't finished," he said.
Zara glanced at it—
Then paused.
It was different.
Bold.
Structured.
Elegant, but sharp.
Not soft.
Not traditional.
Zara leaned back slightly.
Interested now.
"It's incomplete," she said.
Cassian nodded.
"Because it needs you to define it."
Silence.
Zara picked it up again.
Studying every line.
Every detail.
Then—
She smiled.
"That's more like it."
.......
Not everyone was celebrating.
Isabella Valtieri was not a woman who accepted defeat quietly.
She arrived unannounced.
Again.
This time—
Zara didn't ignore her immediately.
She looked up as Isabella entered the planning room, her presence sharp, controlled, disapproving.
"This is unnecessary," Isabella said, her eyes scanning the room.
"All of this excess—"
Zara didn't let her finish.
"If you're here to complain," she said calmly,
"you can leave."
Silence fell instantly.
Isabella stepped closer.
"You think money makes you powerful."
Zara stood.
Slowly.
Gracefully.
"I don't think," she said softly.
"I know."
The tension between them snapped tight.
"This marriage is not a game," Isabella continued.
"It represents legacy."
Zara's lips curved faintly.
"Then you should be grateful," she replied.
"Because I don't represent anything less."
Isabella's gaze hardened.
"I wanted Elena for my son."
Zara didn't react.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't care.
"But you got me," she said simply.
That silence?
Heavy.
Final.
Lucien stepped in then.
Positioning himself slightly between them—not blocking, not protecting, but present.
"That's enough," he said calmly.
Isabella looked at him.
Disappointed.
Frustrated.
"You're making a mistake," she said.
Lucien didn't hesitate.
"No."
A pause.
"I'm making a decision."
And just like that— She knew she had lost that
....By nightfall...
The mansion was quieter again.
The planners had left.
The designs were being redone.
The vision—
Still forming.
Zara stood alone on the balcony, overlooking the city.
Lights stretching endlessly beneath her.
Lucien stepped out beside her.
Neither spoke immediately.
"You're difficult," he said finally.
Zara didn't look at him.
"I'm worth it."
Lucien's lips curved slightly.
"I know."
Silence.
But this time—
It wasn't sharp.
It was something else.
Something slower.
Something building.
And neither of them walked away.