Crimson Vow’s

Before Dawn

The quiet of the gallery was broken at precisely 6 PM by the low purr of an engine. Glancing out of the window , Isabella spots a sleek, black limousine gliding to a stop directly in front of the building. Her heart gave a little leap. It was here.

“Isabella Conklin, this is your time to decide.” She muttered under her breath.

She quickly left the window and walked to her sit quick enough to catch the moment the stout man in a well tailored suit walked inside. He was holding a surprisingly large, vibrant red gift box tied with a gleaming silver ribbon.

He approached her.

“Hi, how may I help you?” She asked.

“I’m looking for a Miss Isabella.” He replied.”I was asked to deliver this package to her.”

“Are you sure you’re at the right place?”she wanted to get on his nerves.

“Yes ma’am.” He replied.

“Okay then,let me see it.” She said stretching out her hands.

“Are you she?” The stout man asked again.

“If you’re so sure this is the address and it’s obvious I’m the only one here then why do you keep asking?” She blurted out slightly irritated.

“Sorry ma’am .”

He presented the box with a polite nod. Isabella clutched the package, her fingers trembling slightly with a mix of anticipation and disbelief.

“What was she even doing ?” She thought

"Excuse me for a moment," she mumbled to the man, already half-turning towards her private office. Once inside, she closed the door, her inquisitiveness taking over. She carefully but quickly untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside,neatly placed on a bed of tissue paper, was a small card. Her fingers trembled as she picked it up and it reads;

“I know red will suit you.”

Below the note lay a Red dress which was already looking stunning without she opening it .She unfolded it.

It was a floor-length gown.

“This looks like it’s from the richest, most luxurious scarlet red silk.” She thought.

The neckline was a sophisticated one-shoulder design, while the back featured a deep V-cut that added an element of sophistication . Beside it lay a pair of matching silver satin stiletto heels, and purse .

She quickly took off her work clothes, her movements fueled by excitement.Sliding the dress slid onto her skin like a second skin.

“It does fit perfectly. A testament to his unsettlingly accurate "measurement" with his eyes” she laughed lightly . She fastened the hidden zipper.

Thankfully, she always kept a mini makeup bag in her office for quick touch-ups so she applied a soft, smoky eyeshadow to enhance her eyes, a touch of blush to her cheeks, and a bold, complementary red lipstick. She then quickly sweeps her hair up into a loosely pinned fashion , letting a few strands touch her face.

Isabella turned to face her full-length mirror. A gasp escaped her lips. The woman staring back was almost unrecognizable. Gone was the professional art curator in her gallery attire.

Emerging from her office, feeling utterly transformed, the stout man in suit was still there.

“You look good ma’am, he complimented .Thank you”

“Let me take you bag,” he offered and almost immediately hand to take her small handbag. Isabella handed it over.

He led her to the waiting black limousine, opening the back door with a smooth, practiced motion. As Isabella peered inside, she was met with a surprise.

“You look stunning……” Alessandro complimented her.

She hadn't expected him to be waiting, let alone with such quiet patience. “Thank you.” She replied with a genuine, radiant smile.

“Thanks for the dress, she added , I like…no, I love it.”

“That’s nothing, he said waving him hand , I am just glad I made a good choice of color.” “God, you’re so pretty .” In that moment, if not that they were alone, he swear he could just kiss her.

After a long drive, they stopped in front of a tall building building. As Alessandro led Isabella inside, she immediately noticed how quiet the place is.

“Feel free.”he had told her .

It was clearly a private establishment, and as they were escorted to a lavishly set table in a secluded space , she realized they were the only guests. The Waiters were dressed nicely and they stood at a respectful distance in another section. It was then that it dawned on her that this entire experience was planned by him for just both of them.

A menu was presented. "Order anything you wish, Isabella," Alessandro said, his voice smooth. "Everything here is exceptional."

Her eyes scanned the menu, She settled on the Pan-Seared Foie Gras with Fig Jam for an appetizer, followed by the Wagyu Beef Ribeye which was served with a truffle potato gratin. Moretti ordered a similar selection and their orders was being attended to.

“So how has work been lately?” He asked breaking the silence .

“Nothing much really.Just the usual painting.”

“This painting, he asked, did you learn it or you have the talent?”

“ Do people learn how to paint?” She asked genuinely

“Of course, he said laughing.I used to actually then I stopped.”

“Tell me it’s a joke.” She was now looking amused.

“No dear,it’s not.I just gave up when work became much and I had to take care of things.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Isabella was looking serious now.

“Shoot”

“What do you do?”

“I don’t understand.” He replies feigning ignorance.

“I mean look at you, you do so well .The investments attached in your name all of those.Do you do business, are you a career person orrrr…..?”

“ Or what?” He chirped in now gazing at Isabella intently.

She looked away.”I don’t know what to think.”

Alessandro smiled then looks away .

“I’d tell you,” he says calmly. “But only on a condition .”

“What is that?”

“I’d let you know the next time you agree to go on a date with me.”

She shrugged. That was okay and she told him so.

Their meal was served and they started eating.

“The food is nice .”

Alessandro agreed while nursing the food on his plate.

Midway through their main course, Moretti suddenly paused, his fork resting on his plate. Isabella looked at him, concerned, a small frown creasing her brow.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

His lips slowly curved into a mischievous smile, a glint of pure devilry dancing in his dark eyes.

"What's wrong?" she demanded again, a nervous laugh escaping her.

His smile widened, and his dark eyes slowly, yet deliberately, gliding down her body, from her shoulders, over the curve of her chest, down the length of her scarlet dress.. He met her eyes again, the mischief still dancing, the demand clear.

"What color," he purred, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper, "is your underwear, Isabella?"

Isabella was completely taken aback, her mouth falling open slightly. Suddenly, She could feel heat radiating from her skin. This dark man, however, seemed unconcerned by her stunned reaction. He simply held her gaze, his smile intact , and then, he issued an instruction that stole her breath.

"Pass it to me," he commanded, his eyes burning into hers.

“Below the table.”

"But... why?" Isabella stammered, her voice barely a whisper, her cheeks burning. The demand was audacious, humiliating, yet something in Alessandro’s gaze showed he would not appreciate an argument.

His smile vanished, replaced by a stern look that sent a shiver of both fear and excitement through her.Like a puppet on a string, her hand moved beneath the tablecloth, her fingers found the delicate fabric of her underwear, and with trembling precision, she slipped the red lace off. She glided the small, scarlet piece gently and quietly across the polished floor, praying the waiters does not notice the scandalous transaction happening just feet away.

Alessandro’s hand met hers beneath the table, his fingers brushing hers as he took the tiny garment. His touch was electric, sending a jolt straight up her arm. When he withdrew his hand, he brought the red lace up slowly, his eyes still locked on hers, a faint, possessive smile playing on his lips once more.

"Red," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to vibrate through her very bones. "A beautiful color, just like you.”

With a casual, almost arrogant grace, he slipped the intimate item into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. The gesture was shockingly intimate, a silent claim.

Just as Isabella was recovering from the audacity of his actions, she started feeling his hand found her thigh beneath the table. Slowly, deliberately,they touch begin to move upwards, gentle, caressing , squeezing.

“Ohahhhh” Isabella gasped, a soft, involuntary sound swallowed by the quiet of the private dining room.She never intended it to come out that loud.

She noticed the waiters in turn now looking towards them.

Alessandro slowly and quietly took his hands out.

He leaned over the table and whispered in her ear.

“ I never knew you could moan, I thought you were some stubborn girl who dislikes a man’s touch. I want to take you home this instant.”