Cassandra’s POV
The night grew darker. I should’ve been used to Adriano’s theatrics by now. The extravagance. The obsession with control. But tonight felt different.
By the time I stepped into the dressing room, half a dozen women—stylists and dressmakers were already there, silent and stiff, treating me like a mannequin as they lined up dress after dress.
It was Adriano’s orders. Of course.
They didn’t look at me like a person. They barely acknowledged me with anything more than side glances. Like they were too afraid of doing something wrong, or maybe too focused on pleasing him to bother being human.
Clothes were draped across tables, chairs, racks. Every type of fabric you could imagine… silk, satin, velvet, lace. Gowns with high necks, low backs, shimmering stones, slits. I coul
