Amethyst
The day after the terrifying encounter with the Wildfire spy, the Alpha suite felt simultaneously like a fortress and a gilded cage. Jackson’s security measures—Code Titus Red—were immediate and absolute. We were surrounded by silent, invisible guards, and the heavy sense of being watched was constant, yet reassuring. But today was non-negotiable: I had to buy my Luna gown.
Jackson, despite his heightened stress levels, kept his promise. He was taking me to a specialized, high-security boutique—one not even known to the public—where the world’s most exclusive gowns were kept. He had, however, granted one exception to the tight lockdown.
“Your mom will accompany us,” Jackson announced, pulling on his suit jacket. “It provides the perfect, non-suspicious cover for the level of se
