Alessandro turns, and for a brief moment, our eyes meet across the room. I’ve been avoiding eye contact with him since he left my room this morning. The pain is just too great to bear. Like now, a throbbing ache that spreads through my chest as I wonder if this will be the last look we share.
Mrs. Natello approaches, asking how we liked the appetizers. She’s wearing one of the dresses I purchased last month and had my mom sell to her. The dress is worth four grand, but Mrs. Natello only paid my mom half of that.
“Ravenna, I’ve never seen you with your hair down, dear,” she says. “What a surprise.”
“I needed a change.” I shrug.
She gives me an insincere smile and leans closer to me. “You know, I saw an amazing little Chanel clutch in their newest collection. It would go beautifully
