Dante looked at me. He did not ask who that loud, irritating man had been. Instead, his eyes shone bright as he spoke.
"Will you make those special dishes you are so good at for me tonight?"
I looked at his young, vibrant face and smiled.
"Of course I will. Why would I not?"
Three months later, the city's most prestigious art museum was hosting a special exhibition featuring the works of my favorite contemporary artist.
I wore a black velvet gown with striking design details. It made my skin look pale and luminous, and the cut cinched my waist to a slender curve.
My curly hair fell loosely over my shoulders, my lips were painted a rich red, and as I moved or turned my gaze, I carried a confidence and bold beauty I had never shown before.
I stood before a large painting, tilting
