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Sierra’s POV Bella and I moved toward the fitting rooms, each carrying an armful of gowns. As we entered, a particular dress caught my eye, tucked away in a secluded corner. It was breathtaking. The dress was a masterpiece—a long, black, fully beaded gown that shimmered like starlight. The intricate beadwork caught the light with every movement, each tiny crystal hand-sewn with precision. It was backless, the smooth fabric dipping low to reveal an elegant sweep of skin. Sleeveless, it hugged the curves in all the right places, and a daring slit ran up the side, stopping just at the waist, adding an edge of sensuality. The hem pooled gracefully, promising to trail behind like a shadow. One of the attendants noticed my awe. “It’s hand-beaded,” she said softly, reverence in her tone. “This