I walk into my closet and eye the two boxes left for me on an ottoman. They're both beautifully wrapped and whatever they contain will be extravagant. Expensive. Elegant.
Because that's Enzo's taste.
I pick the smaller one up and fiddle with the ribbon. The velvet bow comes undone easily and the paper underneath it falls away, revealing a jewelry box. I snap it open, and there's a pair of aquamarine drop earrings.
They match my eyes.
They are absolutely stunning.
The asshole really does have exquisite taste.
I run my fingers over the larger box, certain it contains clothes. I assume Enzo's noted my dress size and when I lift the lid, it isn't what I'm expecting.
Fuck.
I'm screwed.
Thin black lace that's far too small to be decent sits on a paper bed, and its delicacy doesn’t detract from how intimidating the bodysuit is. There's hardly anything to it and the bands that hold the lace in place will only highlight my curves instead of conceal them.
I groan and ignore the awkward, uncomfortable feeling as I struggle into the damn thing. I’ve never worn anything like this, and it’s not designed to be practical.
The girl staring back at me in the mirror looks sexy. Desirable. The kind of girl men would fight over.
I don't recognize her.
I don't want to be her.
I put the earrings in and pick out the short, sequined dress Enzo seemed so taken with a few days ago. It's far too short, but at least it covers almost everything else. Everything, including the bodysuit.
The doorbell rings, and my time has run out. Tonight's here whether I'm ready or not—and I'm not ready.
This dress wasn't designed to be done up in a hurry and I'm running late. My arm twists behind my back as I force the zip up, maneuvering the damn thing up my back.
“Baby.”
I am now officially late.
“Coming,” I say, yelling back.
I adjust the dress, yanking it down as far as I can, and tussle my hair. I groan, catch a breath—and lie to myself that it's going to be fine as I leave the bedroom.
“I don't like being kept...”
I catch Enzo's eye as I walk down the staircase and he stiffens. Every muscle strains, ready to tear the world apart, and his heavy breathing sends a wave of fear through me. His eyes are pitch black and he's about to murder someone.
It looks that someone is me.
The man standing next to him crosses his arms as his head flicks between us. He's not sure what to make of what's happening and when he takes a step away from Enzo, I know I'm in real trouble.
“I made my expectations quite clear, baby.”
I shudder as I walk down the stairs and toward him, ignoring the panic making my stomach tie itself in knots. Enzo's enraged, and he's making damn sure I'm aware of how angry heis. Of how great this infraction is. Of how bad my punishment will be.
The problem is, I don't understand what I've done. He's clearly pissed, but I don't know why.
“Was I unclear?”
I'm confused, and it's showing.
