Valentina's POV
I stood near the entrance in the boutique while Leonardo spoke to the saleswoman. Her hair was pinned in a tight twist, a black fitted dress that made her appear professional and eyes that measured me before I opened my mouth.
“Mr. Monte,” she said, her voice smooth and calm. “Always a pleasure.”
“She needs a dress for the fund‑raiser next week. Something appropriate,” he said his voice flat and his face straight.
Margret looked at me, her gaze traveled from my shoes to my face.
“Of course.” She gestured toward the back of the store. “This way, please.”
I followed her and Leonardo sat on a leather chair near the dressing rooms. He pulled out his phone without looking at me.
Margret pulled dresses from the rack. Navy, silver. Black, dark brown and handed them to me
