Her looks might be ordinary, yet her character is anything but. There's a strength in her that belies her frail appearance.
Andthatmakes her beautiful.
"What?" She looks up to see me staring. I'm ashamed to admit that I find myself briefly flustered by the direct challenge in her eyes, but I quickly collect myself, baiting her with another perceived taunt.
"I was just watching a beautiful woman."
She scoffs, as I knew she would, shaking her head and redirecting her attention back to her book.
She doesn't believe me. Because she only trusts those who mean to put her down.
And I vow to myself that someday she'll see the truth in my words.
Carefully placingthe notebook back under the mattress, I start planning my next move. I would have never pegged her for a diary type of girl, but once I'd realized that all her thoughts were laid down on paper for me to read, I couldn't resist the temptation.
Not when it means that I can move past those strong walls she's put up.
Her entries since we got married haven't been very detailed, hinting at discomfort and a fear of the unknown. She hadn't trusted even her precious diary with her feelings about me—good or bad.
The main reason I'd resorted to snooping had been to see whether I was making any headway with her. Instead, there's barely a mention of my name inside. Not reassuring in any way. It just confirms my theory that she couldn't care less about me.
As usual, the prospect that Allegra is truly immune to me makes my blood boil, and I briefly close my eyes, trying to regain my control. I have a few other aces up my sleeve, and soon she should succumb to my charm.
Although her feelings for me hadn't made it inside her little notebook, her deepest desires had. She's carefully crafted a bucket list—things she's always longed to do but never could. And luckily for me, I can give hersomeof those things.
Heading to her closet, I start sorting through her new wardrobe, looking for a classy dress suitable for the occasion I have in mind. I find a creamy white gown that seems acceptable, and I pair it with a pair of pumps.
"What are you doing?" Allegra bursts through the door, hands on her hips as she narrows her eyes at me.
"I'm taking you out. Here," I toss the dress into her hands, "put this on and meet me downstairs in ten."
I don't wait for her to argue as I close the door behind me and head downstairs.
I'm already dressed in a tux, so I make some phone calls while I wait to make sure everything will go smoothly. I have a box booked at the Met Opera for every season. I usually attend withmamanMargot, since she's always been an opera lover, but as I've been away more often than not, she's taken to going by herself or with whatever lover she has at the moment.
Tonight, though, it will be only me and Allegra.
Allegra, looking exquisite in the gown I'd chosen for her, makes her way down the stairs. I turn to offer her my arm, but she regards me suspiciously.
"Come on, I don't bite," I start, but I can't help myself, so I add, "for now."
She rolls her eyes at me but takes my arm.
"Are the shoes bothering you?" I ask, looking down at her awkwardly trying to walk in the pumps.
"I'm not used to walking in heels," she replies, a tinge of red coloring her cheeks.
"Do you want to change into something more comfortable?"
She quickly shakes her head.
"Not with this dress. Let's just go."
A car is waiting outside to take us to the opera.
"Where are we going?" she asks, her forehead pressed to the window as the flashing lights of the city greet us.
"Surprise?" I attempt a lighthearted joke, but the look she gives me has me shaking my head, relenting, and answering her. "We have an appointment at the opera," I say, phrasing it in such a way that she thinks it's mandatory for us to attend.
