My stomach knots and I look over at him warily. “Where are we going?”
“I could just take you to go and pick out your new car, but we’ll be doing that later. First, we’re going somewhere to pick up something special.”
He lets his words hang there and I huff out an annoyed breath. I can’t help but prod him by asking, “And where would we be going to pick up that something special?”
One side of his mouth tips up into a sly smirk while he navigates the streets of Seattle. “You’ll just have to see,” he tells me, his words ominous as fuck.
The only thing I can do is look out the window and try to figure out where we’re going. But I have no fucking idea.
When he pulls up right in front of an upscale boutique with dresses in the window, all I can do is stare at it. He can’t be serious, right?
It’s not the same store where I tried to buy him cufflinks just a few days ago, but it’s very similar. My stomach knots even tighter and nervousness makes it hard to swallow as my mouth goes dry. I hate this feeling.
I glance over at Angelo to find him already watching me. Of course he is.
“What are we doing here?” I can’t help but ask even though my words come out thicker than I want them to.
“You need to pick out a dress.”
I blink at the man a few times trying to understand his words even though they make perfect sense. What I don’t understand is how they apply to me.
“You just gave me a bunch of dresses,” I remind him.
“True,” he concedes before leaning across the center console of his car as his hand wraps around the back of my neck and pulls me closer. “But this dress is special. This will be the first time you’re on my arm at a party and I want you to feel and look your best. That means something new.”
“What party?” I practically screech the question before I swallow hard to stop myself from being sick.
“It’s a New Year’s Eve party and you belong on my arm.”
With those words, he kisses my lips softly before pulling away and climbing out of the car. As much as I wish I could get out of this, I know I can’t.
Damn it.
CHAPTER 12
ANGELO
As much as I want to soothe her nerves about going into this store to pick out a dress and the upcoming party, I can’t. My words won’t mean nearly enough. Not when what she doubts the most is herself.
My woman tenses the moment we step inside the store. It’s all about luxury inside. All of the dresses are one of a kind and made by designers all over the world. Women who can afford it, flock to this store to be dressed for the most elite and exclusive events in the city.
What my woman doesn’t realize is I had the store shut down for her with one phone call. It no longer surprises me what people are willing to do for the right price.
Honestly, I doubt it would surprise Dove either. I’m sure she saw how money talks during her time at Second Circle. Probably before then.
With my hand on the small of her back, I lead my woman farther into the store. Her eyes are wide as her head swings back and forth to take everything in.
The store owner steps in front of us with a practiced smile onher face as my men take up positions around the store. A few women who work in the boutique try to look like they’re working and not staring at us, but they aren’t subtle.
When those women look at me, I can practically see dollar signs in their eyes. But when their gazes shift to my woman, the disbelief and disgust is clear to see.
While I don’t normally make it a habit to kill women, I may make an exception for them. But this is a chance for Dove to spread her wings and figure out just how much power she has.
It’s not going to be easy if the way her shoulders are slumped is any indication.
“Hello,” the owner chirps. She sticks her hand out and introduces herself to us, but I don’t touch her and the moment she says her name, I forget it. While Dove is kinder than I am and shakes the woman’s hand, I can feel how nervous she is about this whole thing.
Is she worried about being in this store or about going to the party?
