Dante
Carmela called the moment Serafina walked out.
“It’s about Ms Caruso,” she said, voice careful. “She made her selection.”
“That was the point,” I said.
A beat. “It’s… red, Mr. Romano. Very short. Very revealing. Not in line with the brief you gave us.”
Of course it was.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Keep the floor open.”
I ended the call, grabbed my jacket, and was in the car before the driver could ask where. Outside, the afternoon was clear and bright. My temper wasn’t. Serafina had been sent to choose elegance and sent back a dare. Predictable. Irritating. Exactly why she required a firm hand.
***
La Rosa’s doors slid back on polished brass and perfume. Staff lined up fast. Carmela stepped forward, clipboard clutched like a shield.
“Mr. Romano.”
“Show me
