𝐸𝓁𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃

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Finally, it was time to don the dress her mother had selected for her. As she slipped into the garment, she couldn't help but admire its beauty. The rose gold fabric shimmered with hints of silver and gold, catching the light in a mesmerizing display. The dress hugged her figure snugly from the chest down before flaring out gracefully past her thighs, creating an alluring silhouette.

With its deep plunging neckline and a daring slit up the middle, the dress exuded sophistication and allure. A cascade of fabric trailed behind her, draping elegantly over her shoulders and sweeping the floor as she moved. It was a gown fit for a princess, meticulously chosen by her mother to ensure that Amalia made a statement at the upcoming event.

As Amalia slipped into the dress, the seamstress couldn't help but notice a slight discrepancy in its fit. With a furrowed brow, she remarked, "Huh, it's a bit big. We'll have to take it in on the sides."

Despite the minor setback, Amalia's spirits soared when her mother complimented her. "Amalia honey I'm so proud of you. for losing the weight" The warmth in her mother's voice filled her with a sense of validation and pride that she hadn't felt in a long time.

As she stood before the mirror, adorned in her exquisite gown, Amalia couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment wash over her. All the sacrifices she had made, the grueling workouts, the restrictive dieting – it had all been worth it in this moment of recognition from her mother.

Amalia observed the scene unfolding from her window, the grand entrance of guests arriving in a spectacle of opulence. Each arrival seemed to outshine the last, their designer outfits and luxurious cars painting a portrait of extravagance that Amalia couldn't help but find distasteful.

Having grown up surrounded by wealth and privilege, Amalia was no stranger to the world of the elite. Yet, despite her own privileged upbringing, she harbored a disdain for those who flaunted their wealth without a care for others. It was a reminder of the stark contrast between her own values and the ostentatious displays of excess that characterized events like this.

Though she recognized the opportunities afforded to her by her family's status, Amalia always strived to remain grounded and humble. She believed in using her privilege to make a positive impact, rather than indulging in the superficial trappings of wealth.

With a sigh, Amalia knew it was time to descend into the whirlwind of the party below. She couldn't risk her mother's wrath by staying hidden away any longer. Resigned to her fate, she squared her shoulders and made her way downstairs, steeling herself for the inevitable onslaught of pretentiousness that awaited her.

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Max wasn't keen on attending the party to which his parents had been invited. It was his off-season, and he had chosen to visit his family, who were vacationing in Berlin for the winter holiday. The first few days had been enjoyable, but the prospect of this party dampened his spirits considerably. Max loathed parties, especially those attended by wealthy elites and hosted by even wealthier elites.

However, he felt compelled to go, knowing that his father, Jos, would have a few choice words for him if he didn't. Max preferred facing the discomfort of the party over dealing with his father's comments.

Arriving at the house, Max was taken aback by its grandeur. While he was accustomed to luxury, having grown up in a comfortable large mansion in Maaseik with his father Jos, this mansion dwarfed anything he had seen before. The house was more like a castle, The sight of numerous expensive cars parked in front of the manor, and the arrival of even more ostentatiously dressed guests, only reinforced his impression.

𝐿𝐼𝑉𝐸 𝐿𝐼𝐾𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝐺𝐸𝑁𝐷𝑆 - 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑎 𝑜𝑛𝑒Where stories live. Discover now