Winning the Heir Who Bullied Me Chapter 144

If you’d told me two months ago that I’d be attending the dress fitting for Lara Ellington’s wedding—not as a guest, but as the maid of honor—I’d have laughed in your face.

Now? I just try not to puke in the Uber.

My palms are sweaty against the thin fabric of my blouse, and I keep smoothing the hem even though it’s already perfectly tucked.

The streets blur past in a summer haze as I replay Lara’s words over and over: "*We do it smart. We do it right."*

Right. That’s what this is. Smart.

Even if it feels like my intestines are trying to strangle my other organs.

Alice in Ivory is housed in a pristine white building with tall windows and gold lettering on the door. It looks like a bridal dream—delicate, polished, perfect.

Add it to the list of perfect places someone like me has no business being in.

Inside, the scent of vanilla and peonies lingers in the air, like innocence and illusion. I spot Lara immediately, looking elegant and gorgeous as usual in soft beige slacks and a structured corset top.

She beams when she sees me and waves me over.

“April!” she chirps like nothing’s wrong, like we’re just here to try on overpriced gowns and sip rosé.

I walk over, hugging her tightly. “You look stunning.”

“And you look like a woman on a mission,” she whispers near my ear.

I smirk. “You’re not wrong.”

Around us, chatter buzzes—nervous laughter, clinking hangers, rustling silk. Most of the bridal party is already here.

Lara managed to arrange it so that the rest of the girls from the competition are part of the bridal train. That way, my presence wouldn’t raise eyebrows. Smart.

So far, the easy part is going well.

Except for one tiny detail in the form of the two people I least want to see in the world right now.

And I can already feel one of their gazes burning into the back of my neck like a sunburn.

Valerie.

She’s in head-to-toe white—not bridal, but close. A silk wrap dress that hugs her curves and sky-high stilettos that ensure she towers over everybody else. 

Her lips are curled into a sneer, her eyes fixed on me like I’m a cockroach that just won’t die.

And standing beside her, straight-backed in a navy suit, is Nathan.

My heart stutters.

He hasn’t changed. If anything, he’s more devastating than I remember—and *fuck*, all I’ve done is remember.

The angles of his face are sharper. His hair is slicked back, but a little undone at the edges. His eyes—those beautiful emerald eyes—lock with mine for a single second, and it’s enough to drown me.

God, I hate how badly I still feel it—that *ache.*

All I want to do is rush across the room and throw myself in his arms and forget these last couple of weeks.

*“It’s over.”*

Valerie slides her hand into the crook of his elbow, knowing I’m watching. She leans in to whisper something, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

Nathan doesn’t smile.

But he tears his gaze away from mine.

Lara gently tugs my hand. “April,” she says softly. “You okay?”

I turn away, forcing air to enter my constricting lungs. “Peachy,” I lie.

The stylists begin organizing those of us—bridesmaids and groomsmen (a group of young men I don’t know)—who have arrived into groups.

Lara flits around like she’s actually planning a wedding, cooing over necklines and muttering about waistlines, but I can see the steel in her spine. She’s watching everything—especially the door.

Waiting for Lucas.

When he finally arrives, every hair on my skin rises.

Lucas Ashford walks into the boutique like he owns it. And I wouldn’t even be surprised if the Ashfords do own it.

His eyes flick to me. Pause. Linger. His brow raises.

Bingo.

I lower mine, just enough to feign embarrassment. I give him the look Lara and I rehearsed—a mix of vulnerable and desperate.

The girl who was once too proud for him, now humbled.

He said he was done with me. But I’m willing to bet he’ll change his mind if I can just do it right.

But first, I have to get through the fitting.

Just as I start to make my way toward the dressing area, I hear someone call my name.

“April!”

I turn and catch sight of Eliza and Peter walking in.

She’s radiant in a pale blue dress that flares at the waist. Her dark hair is swept into an elegant chignon, and her eyes—warm and earnest—glow with something between relief and sadness.

“Eliza,” I breathe.

Her hand slips out of Peter’s, and she throws her arms around me before I can say another word, hugging me like it’s been years.

I cling to her instantly. Her embrace feels like home—warm, familiar, comforting.

She pulls back slightly. “You just disappeared. You *promised* you’d call.”

Guilt spikes through me. “I know. I’m sorry. I just—”

I wanted to put it all behind me. I wanted to forget everything that had to do with the Ashfords. And Nathan.

“I get it,” she cuts in gently. “But I missed you so much.”

She pulls me back into a hug.

My throat tightens, squeezing her. “I missed you, too.”

When we pull back, I smile at her. “And congratulations.”

A beam splits her face as she squeals. “I pinch myself at least five times a day.”

“I’ve told her to stop doing that,” Peter steps in, sliding an arm around her waist. “I don’t want a bruised bride.”

I feel my smile soften into something wistful. “Hi, Peter.”

He reaches out and gently punches my shoulder, his smile mirroring mine. “Good to see you, CQ.”

“Go mingle, babe,” Eliza says, nudging him away. “April and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

He presses his hand to his chest. “You’re sending me away? I thought we promised to be by each other’s side forever.”

She rolls her eyes fondly. “Go,” she laughs as he kisses her temple and then shoots me a wink before going to join Nathan and the group of men at the other side of the shop.

With Peter gone, Eliza turns back to me, and her smile fades. She leans in, lowering her voice. “Lara told me everything.”

My eyes widen. “She did?”

“Oh, April,” she says softly. “It must have been so awful.”

I shrug, looking away. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”

She shakes her head. “No, I totally get it. I’m just sorry you went through that.”

“Are you…okay with it? The plan.”

Her jaw clenches. “I’m more than okay with it. That man is a demon. Whatever I can do to help—just say the word.”

I feel emotion lodge behind my ribs. “Thank you.”

Eliza smiles, soft and strong all at once. “You’ve got this, April. And you’re not alone.”

She squeezes my hand before slipping back toward the other girls, blending into the bridal chaos.

I adjust the straps on the gown and survey the room for Lara.

But my eyes catch Nathan’s in the large floor-to-ceiling mirror.

He's watching me.

For a breath, it’s like we’re back in his room, safe in our cocoon.

Before everything fell apart.

I see a world of emotions tangled up in his eyes like a ball of yarn—pain, regret, longing.

Tearing my gaze away is as painful as ripping off a Band-Aid.

Today isn’t about him or us.

I need to focus.