I pour myself another champagne and down it in one swallow, adjusting my jacket to hide my body's reaction to that dress. To her.
"Bring more dresses," I tell the manager. "Ones with backs."
From behind the curtain, I hear Sophia laugh - low and knowing and absolutely nothing like the innocent girl everyone thinks she is.
Sophia
Lorenzo's reaction was everything I hoped for and more. The controlled man finally showing cracks in his perfect facade.
I slip out of the scandalous dress and reach for the black one. This one is completely different - elegant, with long sleeves and a modest neckline. The back is fully covered, just like he demanded. But the way it hugs my curves makes it just as dangerous in its own way.
I step out of the changing room.
Lorenzo's eyes sweep over me, taking in every detail. He stands from his chair, circling me slowly like a predator examining prey. His gaze is clinical now, all business, but I catch the way his fingers flex at his sides.
"Turn," he commands.
I do a slow spin, letting him see the dress from every angle. The fabric whispers against my skin, and I feel powerful in it. Like I could walk into any room and own it.
"This one," he says, his voice decisive. "You'll wear this to the engagement party."
"You don't want to see the others?"
"No." He steps closer, adjusting the sleeve slightly even though it doesn't need adjusting. "This is perfect. Elegant. Appropriate."
"Appropriate," I repeat, fighting a smile. "Unlike the blue one?"
His jaw tightens. "The black one, Sophia. For the party."
I nod, playing obedient. "Whatever you say."
Back in the changing room, I take my time getting back into my jeans and sweater. My body still hums from our earlier exchange, from the heat in his eyes when he saw all that exposed skin. He wants me. He can deny it all he wants, but his body tells a different story.
When I emerge with both dresses draped over my arm, the manager rushes forward.
"Just the black one?" she asks, clearly expecting a bigger sale from Lorenzo Sartori's fiancée.
"Both of them," I confirm looking at him, handing them over. "The blue and the black."
Lorenzo's eyes narrow.
I walk over to Lorenzo, who's pulled out his gold card to pay.
"I need to find some underwear," I announce.
Lorenzo's hand freezes halfway to giving the manager his card.
"What?"
"Underwear. Lingerie. You know, the things that go under the dresses?" I keep my voice innocent, but I'mwatching his reaction carefully. "These dresses require specific undergarments. Unless you'd prefer I go without?"
The manager suddenly finds something very interesting to examine on her tablet.
Lorenzo's grip on his card tightens. He pays for the dresses and then turns to me.
"There's a lingerie store two doors down."
"Good. You can help me pick something appropriate." I emphasize the last word, throwing his earlier statement back at him. "After all, you seem to have strong opinions about what I should wear."
