VICTORIA BELLA WASHINGTON
The days flew by until the much-anticipated Mafia Gala Night finally arrived. Vincenzo had spared no expense, arranging a luxurious spa session for me, complete with a massage, pedicure, manicure, and facials. I also had a standby makeup artist, hairstylist, and a mysterious large box delivered to my room a few hours after the spa session. The box bore a note that read, “Love, from your tiger.”
Of course, it was from Vincenzo. I hadn’t opened the box yet, being preoccupied with the flurry of activity around me. I was being treated like royalty, surrounded by professionals attending to my every need. It was overwhelming yet exhilarating.
At exactly 6 PM, the makeup team began their magic. I felt the gentle application of powder, the meticulous drawing of my brow
