Her Story: Rise Of Tiffany Novel by Rex Ring

Chapter 574 The entire floor was expansive, spacious, and bathed in light.

In the elegantly minimalist living room, a few neatly arranged rattan chairs added a touch of warmth, while two steaming cups of premium coffee sat invitingly on the table.

A group of stuassistants stood to the side, poised to greet their guests. The moment Richard entered with Tiffany, they bowed respectfully and chorused, "Good day, Mr. Hampton. Good day, Mrs. Hampton." "Mm," Richard replied lazily, not breaking his stride as he continued walking further inside with Tiffany by his side.

Beyond the sitting area, displayed on a pristine, well-lit platform, was a wedding dress that commanded attention with its luxurious simplicity. It glowed under the lights.

Richard kept a firm but gentle hold on Tiffany's hand. When her eyes landed on the dress, Tiffany couldn't help but pause, captivated.

It was stunning-the style, the precise tailoring, the sheer elegance. It radiated luxury without veering into ostentation, carrying an almost ethereal beauty. It was breathtaking.

"Do you like it?" Richard asked, his hand brushing lightly against her waist. He added with a small smile, "Go ahead, try it on." Tiffany hesitated. To be honest, she hadn't been prepared for this.

She had just cfrom school, still wearing her uniform. Her shoes didn't match the occasion, and she wasn't wearing any makeup. How could she try on such a stunning wedding dress like this? But Richard clearly anticipated her concern.

As soon as he finished his words, several female staff members stepped forward.

They bowed gracefully to Tiffany and said in unison, “Mrs. Hampton, please follow us this way." Realizing there was no point in refusing, Tiffany nodded. She glanced back at Richard, whose eyes gleamed with anticipation. The warmth in his gaze made her cheeks flush. Without another word, she let herself be led into the dressing room.

The wedding dress had a long, trailing hem, and it was undeniably difficult to handle alone.

However, the studio's assistants were clearly well-trained. Tiffany felt them working swiftly yet delicately, and before she knew it, the dress was fitted perfectly around her.

"Mrs. Hampton, please have a seat. I'll fix your hair," one of the assistants said with a smile.

"Thank you," Tiffany replied softly.

There was no mirror in front of her, so she couldn't see herself. She could only sit still as the assistants worked around her. After about ten minutes, her hair was styled, and a few more minutes later, a light layer of makeup had been applied.

The assistants' awe-filled voices echoed one after another. "You look so beautiful." Tiffany curved her lips into a smile. For once, the usually self-assured and narcissistic Tiffany didn't nod in smug agreement. Instead, she asked, "Is there a mirror?" The stuwas enormous, with every corner tastefully arranged. Yet, the absence of a mirror seemed oddly conspicuous. One of the female assistants stifled a laugh and replied, "We don't keep mirrors in the studio. Our designer believes in showcasing the bride's most beautiful side to her groom first. So. Mrs. Hampton, you'll only see yourself when you step outside." "I see. Tiffany nodded in understanding.

One assistant approached with a pair of high heels, smiling warmly. "Please change into these, Mrs. Hampton. Then you'll be ready to go out." "All right." Tiffany took the shoes and slipped them on.

As she rose, the door to the changing room opened.

The assistants bowed slightly in unison, their voices soft and respectful. "Mrs. Hampton, please." Taking a deep breath, Tiffany stepped forward, her heart unexpectedly fluttering.

This was clearly not an official wedding. He'd seen her at her worst, knew her better than anyone, and there was nothing left to conceal.

Yet, in this moment, a nervous energy coursed through her, her heart pounding wildly against her ribcage. Her face grew warm as a flush crept across her cheeks.

Exhaling slowly, Tiffany steadied herself, straightened her posture, and walked out in her elegant high heels. Richard had been waiting for a long time.

But he was not impatient at all from the beginning to the end.

Despite his usual cool and composed demeanor, there was an unmistakable anticipation etched into his expression at this time.

His gaze occasionally drifted toward the direction of the changing room, betraying a rare flicker of eagerness. Finally, the door opened.

A figure clad in white emerged, moving gracefully.

Tiffany's delicate features, lightly enhanced with makeup, radiated a flawless beauty that could steal one's breath. The wedding dress hugged her slender frame, accentuating her swan-like neck with elegance and poise. Her prominent collarbones added a subtle hint of allure, and the faint red mark on her neck stirred even more intrigue.

Richard's gaze deepened, the brief flicker of astonishment in his eyes giving way to an unguarded admiration. Then a slow, captivating smile spread across his face, his features growing impossibly more striking.

Rising from his seat, Richard cut a dashing figure. His tall frame, broad shoulders, and chiseled physique were impeccably showcased by his tailored suit. He looked so handsand charming.

Tiffany watched him approach, her heart skipping a beat, though a sly glint danced in her clear eyes.

She asked teasingly, "Do I look good?" "Yes," Richard replied without hesitation.

Then, he leaned closer, and his large hand easily encircled her slender waist.

Her waist was soft, impossibly slim, and she looked effortlessly pretty and graceful.

Truly, Tiffany, his wife, was breathtakingly beautiful.

Richard leaned in closer, inhaling softly near her, and his smile deepened. "You smell good too."

It wasn't the scent of perfbut something subtler-a faint, natural daroma she seemed born witholtm reminded him of fresh herbs mingled with the lightest hint of floral sweetness, a unique, ethereal fragrance that was irresistibly seductive. Tiffany blushed and glared at him playfully, whispering, "Hey, there are so many people around. Don't be like that, okay?" Then, with a snap of his fingers, the surrounding crowd dispersed instantly.

"Now you don't have to worry about that," Richard said with a deep, urgent smile. "You can do whatever you want to me." Tiffany blinked, momentarily confused. Then, in a half-joking tone, she asked, "It sounds more like something you would say.".

"Well then," Richard murmured, his voice rich with amusement, “I can do whatever I want to you now."

A low chuckle reached her ears, and m before she could react, his lips found hers. His kisses were stow and deliberate, each one trailing lower and lower, igniting her senses bit by bit until a whistle sounded from nearby, followed by a burst of laughter. "Is this the legendary Mr. Hampton?" someone teased. "The cold and untouchable Mr. Hampton? Turns out he's no different than any other man!" Tiffany's heart leapt as her face turned crimson, but before her embarrassment could surface, Richard shielded her with his arms and draped his suit jacket over her.

Only then did Richard glance over his shoulder, his gaze icy as it landed on the intruder. His thin lips curled in disdain as he growled a single word, "Leave." The man, however, strode in unabashedly, laughing heartily.

Tiffany peeked out from behind Richard and saw a man of similar age to Richard. Dressed impeccably, he carried himself with easy confidence. His features were striking, though not overly so, and his demeanor suggested familiarity with Richard. This man was Eddie Murphy, the owner of the stuthey were in, a world-renowned designer.

Eddie's creations were one-of-a-kind masterpieces sought after by celebrities and aristocrats alike. However, Eddie was a very arrogant person, and few could convince him to take on their projects.