Isabella Clairemont stormed down the hallway of their lavish mansion, her high heels clicking aggressively against the marble floor. She burst into her mother's bedroom without knocking.
"Mother! I need the platinum card today. My wedding is in two months, and I still don't have my dress!"
Clara Clairemont sat propped up against silk pillows, looking frail yet somehow menacing. Her thin fingers gripped a leather-bound book, and her sharp eyes fixed on her daughter.
"Isabella, I've told you. We'll go shopping next week when I'm feeling stronger."
Isabella rolled her eyes dramatically. "You've been saying that for weeks! Every boutique in Haven Harbor has been holding dresses for me, and they'll sell them if I don't make a decision soon."
"Then they'll sell them." Clara's voice was soft but unyielding. "I will be there when my only daughter chooses her wedding dress. That's final."
