I find the less time I spend with him, the more likely I am to make it through a day without being upset.
“Any chance you’re in the mood to go dress shopping today?” I ask sheepishly. “I don’t have an outfit for tonight.”
“Oh!” Evi’s face lights up, her warm amber eyes softening affectionately. “Well, I would love to, but…”
She bites her lower lip, a soft rose creeping into her golden cheeks, and my stomach sinks.
I know it’s probably too much to hope for, but I’d kind of felt like I’d started to form a genuine friendship with Sandro’s sweet wife, an ally amid the ruthless Chiaroscuro brothers, but maybe the feelings aren’t as mutual as I’d hoped.
“Don’t worry about it if you already had plans,” I rush out to mask my disappointment. “It was silly of me to leave it to the last minute.”
“No, it’s not that,” Evi assures me. “It’s actually, well…” Her blush intensifies, and her eyes drop as she fidgets nervously with the sleeve of her sweater. “I kind of took it upon myself to, um… make you a dress.” Then her eyes fly wide, turning doe-like as she grasps my wrist. “But if you’d rather shop for a dress, I totally understand. I’m sure you’re used to designer?—”
“Are you kidding me?” I ask, warmth flooding my body, and I can’t help the smile that splits my face. It feels like the first genuine one I’ve cracked since my night of overindulgence with Raf, and I cover my aching cheeks with my palms. “I didn’t know you made dresses. Can I see it?”
Evi giggles and rises from her chair. “I figured you and I are about the same size, though you have a few inches on me,” she explains, pulling me from my seat to drag me excitedly back toward the residential wing where we’ve been staying. “So it’s probably best if you try it on now anyway, in case I need to make alterations.”
The house is thankfully free of the Chiaroscuro twins—likely out “pounding pavement”, as Raf calls it, despite it being a weekend with an event this evening, and when Evi shows me into her and Sandro’s suite, I can see her tasteful touch in the room’s decor.
It silently reminds me that she intentionally left Raf’s room plain so I could decorate it with my own preferences, though I haven’t gotten around to it.
I honestly haven’t seen much point when I very much intend for our marriage to remain temporary—especially after what happened that one drunken night.
“I had one dress in mind for you, but if it isn’t your style, I have plenty to choose from,” Evi says.
“How many dresses have you made?” I ask, then my jaw drops when she opens her closet to reveal hangers draped with countless designs made of the finest fabrics.
This doesn’t look like a luxury-brand wardrobe—it looks like it came straight off a designer’s rack.
Evi laughs, scanning the contents with affection. “Honestly, I’ve lost count, but I promise it won’t offend me if they seem too amateur for your tastes.” She makes a beeline for the back of the closet and snags a gown that looks more like an art piece than an outfit. And as she carries it out to me, all I can do is stare in wonder.
It looks like a living flame caught in fabric.
Blood-red satin with a corseted top that promises to steal my breath.
Irish lace appliqués bloom over the strapless bodice like wildflowers trying to soften a blade.
The chic cat-eye neckline could only be capable of showing off my breasts in the most flattering of ways, and the high slit in the mermaid skirt reminds me of Jessica Rabbit.
It’s fierce and feminine, Italian drama stitched together with Irish soul, and somehow, it feels like my entire identity is reflected back at me.
“You want me to wear this?” I ask, my voice breathless.
“At least try it on,” Evi urges a little giddy. “I figured the corset will minimize any need for alterations since it’s adjustable.” Handing it off, she perches on the edge of the bed, one hand absently rubbing her small but unmistakable baby bump.
She glows with that quiet kind of joy that sneaks up on you when you aren’t looking.
I step into the dress and pull it up my body.
The satin sighs around my hips.
When she laces the corset, I feel myself straighten, shoulders back, spine lengthening, like the garment has the magical ability to make me unbreakable.
When she finishes tying it off, I turn toward the mirror—and freeze.
I’ve worn beautiful dresses before, as all daughters of powerful families do.
But this one feels different.
