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I step into the room to get ready. I don’t even know what to wear.
Well, to be honest, I do have clothes. My problem is that there isn’t anything I can actually wear.
The closet had only one fancy dress in it, the last time I opened it. With an exasperated sigh, I frown and open it again. The door glides open, revealing an array of dresses that weren’t there before.
My eyes widen at the sight of them – three elegant, sophisticated, and undoubtedly expensive dresses. The tags still hang from their pristine fabric. I pull the black one out and gasp. It’s the fishtail gown I had tried on at Cmelot- the one with black zircons all over it.
I take out the other two quickly-the plum satin gown and the silver satin gown that the owner had showed me at the boutique. All three dresses that I wanted to get. He got them.
For the moment, guilt sweeps over me and I look at my flushed face in the mirror. The earlier conversation, the retorts – I had been rude to him, who, for reasons unknown to me, decided to gift me these gorgeous dresses. I run my fingers over the satin gowns, feeling the smoothness of the material beneath my touch.
I might have misjudged his intentions. This is too much. I touch the fabric, wondering why he did this. Is this some sort of apology?
I look at myself and the mirror shows someone who doesn't fit in this luxurious world. A sigh escapes me, and I decide to wear the black zircon dress. It's shimmer catches the light just right. The way it clings to my figure is both flattering and comfortable.
I can't deny the sudden twinge of excitement that courses through me as I catch my reflection in the full-length mirror again. Gosh.
The guilt from earlier is momentarily forgotten, replaced by a strange sense of appreciation. Maybe, just maybe, these are peace offerings from a man who's more complicated than I initially thought.
I find the makeup neatly arranged on the vanity – high-end products that further affirm the extravagance of the wardrobe. I decide on a classic, bold look, adding a hint of smoky eye shadow to enhance my eyes.
I look at the lip-shade on the table. Charlotte Tilbury- Ruby Red. Man, I’ve only seen this in Vogue Magazines.
Just as I'm applying it to my lips, there's a sudden movement in the mirror’s reflection – Tommaso, impeccably dressed in a black suit, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk playing on his lips.
"What’s taking you so long? I thought you might have changed your mind at the last moment, and decided to run," he says, amusement evident in his tone.
I stand frozen, my heart pounding against my chest, as he steps into the room. His presence commands attention, and my eyes lock onto his tall figure wrapped in a perfectly tailored black suit.
The dark fabric clings to his broad shoulders and accentuates his strong, manly physique. Damn. He looks so hot. My gaze trails from his broad chest down to his trim waist, admiring the way the suit skims over his body. Every stitch seems meticulously placed. The dinner jacket hugs him just right, emphasizing his muscles.
As he moves towards me, I smell his inebriating perfume. Musky and spicy. It’s… arousing. His polished black shoes gleam under the soft lighting, reflecting my own reflection back at me.
I meet his gaze in the mirror, rolling my eyes playfully. "As tempting as that sounds, I lost the bet, and I figured I could use a change of setting."
He chuckles, stepping further into the room. "Well, I'm glad you lost our bet, and were morally obligated to grace me with your presence for this evening. You look stunning." He mocks me about the bet, and he winks at me as he hands me a beautiful, red rose.
A flush of warmth spreads across my cheeks, a reaction I hadn't anticipated. "Thank you," I mutter, not quite meeting his brown eyes. I accept the flower with gentle hands and stick it behind my ear.
His smile becomes wider. He looks like a heartthrob straight out of a romantic movie. I want to kiss him.
“I want to kiss you, but–" I roll my eyes as Tommaso sidles up to me, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"Scared you'll ruin your perfect image by getting lipstick on you?" I tease.
He smirks, his gaze deliberately lingering on my lips. "Well, it's hard to resist the temptation to add a touch of chaos to perfection."
I scoff, squirming inside my dress. "You think you're some kind of god's gift, huh?"
He leans in, his breath teasing my ear. "Maybe."
I push him away, feigning annoyance. "Save the charm for someone else."
He chuckles, undeterred. "Come on, admit it. You're loving my attention." I am. But I’ll be damned if I tell him.
I cross my arms, pretending nonchalance. "Oh, I'm absolutely thrilled to have a mafia boss eyeing me like a piece of art."
Tommaso smirks, his eyes gleaming. "Well, that, you are." He licks his lips.
