Serafina
By the time the clock struck nine, my bedroom looked like the aftermath of a war. Shoes were scattered across the rug, lipsticks rolled toward the dresser, and Amelia stood in the middle of it all with her hands on her hips like an exasperated general.
“You’re really doing this?” she asked, eyeing the crimson strapless leather dress clinging to me like sin itself.
I smoothed my palms down the bodice, the glossy fabric catching the light. “Yes.”
Amelia let out a long whistle. “Forget gasoline, you just brought a flamethrower to the battlefield.”
“Good.” I reached for the crimson heels and slipped them on, the sharp stiletto clicking against the wood floor. “Let him burn.”
She shook her head, muttering under her breath. “Holy hell, Dante’s going to lose his mind.”
We l
