CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I look like a puff pastry.
Staring at her reflection in the three-part mirror with horror, Jules tried not to grimace or cry. She couldn’t believe Enrique wanted her to wear this monstrosity at their wedding. She’d thought he had gone to so much trouble to make her happy. Except he hadn’t.
Enrique will not give up a hundred-million-dollar dowry because you went sailing.
Alejandro reaffirmed what she knew in her heart and her mind. Enrique cared only about her dowry. He’d pretended his effort had been for her, but the spectacle and this dress were for him alone. She’d overheard the manicurist talking to the hairstylist about putting together a list for the crown prince of improvements needed. No one cared what Jules thought.
Thank goodness Enrique hadn’t stuck around.
