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Sophia
Adress arrived for me in the late afternoon. Diana brought it up and told me I was supposed to wear it to dinner that night. I thought it was a sweet, if not domineering, gesture from Roman. Then when I opened the box, my heart nearly stopped. Crimson silk lay before me.
I stand in front of the double wide full-length mirror in my bedroom, dressed, hair and makeup done, and ready to leave. The silk hugs my curves from the hips up, the skirt falling in several layers of airy fabric to the floor. It’s beautiful.
Nik hated it when I wore red. He said it made me look like a cheap whore.
Apparently, Roman disagrees.
I’ve always loved the way I look in red. The rich color brings out the highlights in my dark hair, and seems to make my tan skin glow. I smile at myself in the mirror. Which does little to calm my jumbled nerves.
I’m going out tonight with Roman De Luca. On a date, our first date—at least I think this is a date. People will see us together.
For the past few days I’ve been living in a kind of limbo. Just me, Roman, and the household staff, existing in our own little world. Here, I’m free to be myself. To push Roman’s buttons with no real consequence other than his hands on my body and his sultry voice in my ear. My skin heats at the memory of this morning in the kitchen.
But out there, everything is different. The world will eat us alive if we’re not careful. Outside of these walls, I have to be the perfect mafia wife: Respectful and demure. Out there, Iamhis property.
Slipping on my heels, I make my way downstairs to meet Roman at exactly seven o’clock. He’s already waiting when I descend the staircase. He looks like a dream in a tailored dark suit and tie. His hair is perfectly styled, face clean shaven, posture deceptively casual.
His gaze finds me, and for a moment the impenetrable wall in his eyes falls away. Past it I see his thoughts and emotions. He looks at me with awe, a hint of lust, and what I can only describe as hope. Then sadness and pain war for dominance before he pushes them aside. By the time I reach the bottom step, all I see is pride in his eyes before that barrier is firmly back in place.
“You look perfect…except for one thing. You’re not wearing any jewelry.”
I’d hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Whoever Papa had pack up my things didn’t include any of my jewelry. I don’t have anything here, and with the short notice about going out tonight, there wasn’t time to make a trip into the city.”
The trip itself wouldn’t have taken too much time. Facing my father and mother is another story. A quick stop by their place to grab more of my belongings is out of the question. I know Papa was coerced, but the haste in which he had me thrown out still stings. I need more time before I can face him.
“I have just the thing.” Roman snaps his fingers, and Diana appears, carrying a black velvet box. “This will go perfectly with that dress.”
She stops beside us and pops it open. Inside is a dazzling ruby and diamond necklace with matching earrings. It’s absolutely stunning. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
Only after gaping at it for several thundering heartbeats, do my eyes land on the logo in the middle.
Maçon.
I’m familiar enough with wealth. Mama insists my sisters and I wear designer clothing, and I have some very nice pieces of jewelry fromTiffany’s and evenCartier.ButMaçonJewelersis next level. They are the most exclusive jewelry designers in the world. So exclusive that most people haven’t ever heard of them. This piece alone had to have cost millions,plural.
I glance up at Roman with a sudden realization, becauseMaçononly works with diamonds. “Those aren’t rubies, are they?”
“No, they’re red diamonds. I see you’re familiar withMaçon.” He lifts the necklace from its case and drapes it across my neck, clasping it in the back. Done, his fingertips trail down my shoulders, making me shiver. “This belonged to my great-grandmother, so it’s been in the family for a while. It looks exquisite on you, principessa.”
Butterflies erupt in my stomach every time he calls me by that endearment. I cast him a shy smile. Another thoughtful gesture from him to add to my White Knight list.
“Thank you,” I say, reaching for the matching earrings and putting them on.
I stand before the foyer mirror. He’s right, the diamonds go perfectly with this dress. Roman seems to have had this all planned out, but what are his intentions?
I eye him. “You know you can’t buy me, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I don’t have a price. I’m not for sale.”
He smirks. “We’ll see about that. Let’s go.” He offers his arm and I take it.
The limousine waits for us outside. We sit next to each other for the ride into the city. Roman’s presence eats up all the oxygen in the space and presses against me from all sides until I’m hyper aware of his every subtle move, every small shift and flex of his fingers. The way his knee touches mine.
I try to relax by gazing out the window, noticing how the snow has melted to dirty slush beside the road. Soon I’m lost in my own thoughts.
