I imagine walking into dinner in it, Dominic’s brain mentally crashing out. He won’t say a word, of course. But I’ll know.
“I’ll take the shoes, too,” I say, pointing at a pair of black patent leather stilettos on display. Louboutins, if I remember correctly.I once overheard Elena gushing to a friend about how the red sole was iconic, how every woman should own at least one pair.
The associate signals to another woman, who scurries off to fetch them in my size. I sink into a velvet sofa, pretending to be calm. My pulse, though, is erratic.
The black card in my hand is warm from where I’ve been spinning it between my fingers. The irony isn’t lost on me. I’ve been in boutiques just like this, but always trailing behind Elena. My sister had the taste for labels, the boldness to run her hands over fabrics with price tags that made me sweat. And even though our mafia is a modest one, Dad always had the money when it came to polishing Elena like the doll that she is.
“Would you like to try it on?” the associate asks carefully.
“Yes.”
They lead me into a fitting room lined with mirrors on three sides. I peel off my clothes slowly and step into the gown. The silk feels soft against my skin, pooling at my feet before I tug it up and over my shoulders. It hugs my body perfectly, the slit exposing my thigh in a scandalous invitation.
When I slip into the stilettos, I nearly laugh. The heels are sky-high, and exactly what I need. I straighten and stare at my reflection. For a moment, my throat tightens. The woman staring back at me looks like she could ruin a man with just a glance. I’ve never looked at myself this way… never looked like this. Guilt creeps in, and that voice in my head whispers aboutbills, about how this money could change someone’s life. About how I shouldn’t want this.
The associate clears her throat softly, bringing me back. “It suits you, Miss.”
Of course it does.
“I’ll also need a purse,” I say lazily, gesturing with one hand. “Something small. Classy. Preferably something that will put a dent in this card.”
Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile. She moves quickly, returning with a diamond clutch. I accept it without a word, tucking it under my arm as if I’ve always carried things like this.
When the bill is tallied discreetly on a little screen, I nearly choke. That’s… that’s someone’s annual salary. Maybe two. More money than I’ve ever seen in one place. For one terrifying second, I almost back out.
But then I think of Dominic’s reaction when he sees me. The twitch he won’t be able to suppress.
The reaction I’m going to get drives me into motion.
And I swipe the card with a huge smile on my face.
Chapter ten
Dominic
I watch Isabella from the corner of my eye. She’s deep in thought, probably planning her next act of rebellion. I haven’t spoken to her since midway through the drive, when her coat shifted, and I realized she’s dressed like pure fucking temptation.
Annoyance rises in my chest but I take a deep breath. I’ll teach her a fucking lesson when we get back.
It took every bit of control not to return to the mansion and drag her back inside, caveman style, rip the fabric to shreds, and remind her who the fuck she belongs to.
Not to mention, she’s wearing makeup that suits her features. The lack of glasses enhances her feminine appeal, but even moreso, the rebellious façade she’s putting on makes her come off as more confident. And that’s both annoying and sexy as fuck.
My cock twitches, and that’s my cue to train my thoughts on something else. A fucking boner is the last thing I want to walk into the event.
The car slows to a stop. My gaze shifts to the tinted window. The entrance is already packed with hungry wolves, looking for the next story to sell. We’re late, thanks to my darling wife.
Irritation climbs my chest. I hate gatherings. Too many mouths. Too many variables I can’t control. But my presence here is unavoidable, especially if I want to keep the deal with Grimaldi in progress.
I glance at her, lips pressed into a flat line. “No talking unless given permission. No greetings and, most importantly, no unnecessary introductions.” I can’t afford Isabella running her mouth and embarrassing me.
She frowns, her mouth twitching into a stubborn pucker. Lips painted blood red to match the dress. A fucking temptation that I want to smear all over my cock until she’s begging for mercy.
“You will smile for the cameras and act like we’re fond of each other,” I add plainly.
She pulls her head back, cocking her brow with a puzzled expression like I’ve just argued that the earth is a triangle. Thenshe releases a deep, belly-turning laughter that makes me clench my fist.
“Fond of each other?” She eyes me. “Can’t act like that even if I tried.”
