It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

At fifteen, you had built a name for yourself as one of the best designers, specializing in making the impossible happen with a budget so tight it could choke a stone. And your first big gig? A high-end celebrity wedding. Not just any wedding; this was the kind of wedding where even the flowers had their own Instagram account. The bride and groom were A-list, and the whole thing was supposed to be nothing short of a fairy tale.

Except, you weren’t living in a fairy tale. No, you were drowning in imported Icelandic flowers, Swarovski crystals, and a budget that wasn’t yours. Not to mention, there was him.

Christian Convery; actor, heartthrob, and the most ridiculously annoying man you had ever met.

“I really think the floral arrangement should be... Let’s say bolder.” Christian’s smooth voice echoed through the room, the tone of someone who was used to getting everything he wanted.

You nearly rolled your eyes. "Bolder?" You muttered under your breath, adjusting the table centerpiece that looked like a mini forest. It had taken you hours to design, and now Christian was coming in with his ridiculously expensive suggestions.

“Imported Icelandic flowers,” He continued, eyeing the arrangements with that signature, 'I-have-too-much-money' smile. “You can’t go wrong with them. They’re perfect for this kind of wedding.”

You forced a smile, trying your best not to strangle him with the expensive silk ribbon that you had just spent twenty minutes getting perfectly placed. “I’ll make a note of that. Anything else, Mr. Convery?”

“Actually,” He said, stepping closer. “I think we need more gold accents. A wedding like this deserves nothing less than opulence.”

Your jaw clenched. “Got it. More gold.” You practically bit the words out, already imagining the insane budget he was about to add to.

At this rate, you were going to end up spending more on decorations than the actual marriage.

You looked around the room, trying to center yourself in the chaos. This was your job, your responsibility, and you weren’t about to let Christian Convery of all people derail you. But the way his sharp emerald green eyes lingered on you as you moved from one task to the next made it way too hard to focus.

“So,” He started again, leaning against the nearby pillar. “What do you think about the bridal dress? You think the mood matches the theme?”

You glanced over at the dress hanging on a rack, it's layers of lace and satin shimmering under the soft lighting. “It’s beautiful..." You replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

Christian wasn’t one to take “no” for an answer. “We need something more... Daring. Maybe some bold lines, something that makes a statement.”

You stared at him, unable to stop the sarcastic laugh that escaped your lips. “And you think a dress with ‘bold lines’ is going to do that? You’re out of your mind.”

“Bold lines work, trust me.” He said, grinning. “You just need to take risks in design.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should take a risk in shutting up.” You muttered, adjusting the lace on the bride’s veil.

That was the moment you saw it, the glint of something more than irritation in his eyes. Something... Dangerous. He raised an eyebrow, but before he could speak, the sound of frantic footsteps interrupted you two.

“Guys!” The bride’s assistant burst through the door, looking flustered. “The bride is gone! She’s... She’s run away.”

Your stomach dropped.

You could already hear the whispers of a media storm brewing. A runaway bride at a wedding of this caliber? Iconic.

Christian’s eyes widened, but there was a brief flicker of something else; excitement. “Guess we have no choice but to get to work.” He said, rolling up his sleeves.

You stared at him, utterly lost for words. “You’ve got to be kidding me...”