STELA GOMES
I walked toward the fitting room, my heart pounding, with Andreza on my heels. I glanced at the clock and saw it was already eight o'clock in the evening.
This store had several private fitting rooms, each nearly the size of my old bedroom, with sofas and mirrors. Thick red curtains provided privacy for those inside, either trying on clothes or simply changing.
I stopped in front of the fitting room Andrew had pointed out to me and slowly drew back the curtain, curious to see who was inside. There, I found the formidable Ivan Smith in the middle of changing clothes while that insipid blonde sat on the couch, practically drooling as she watched him.
Ivan noticed the curtain opening and turned, coming face to face with me.
At that moment, I saw Ivan's startled reaction, the
