FIORELLA’S POV
“Ouch.”
Giulia had pushed a pin too far into my hair, and it poked my scalp.
“I’m so sorry, Donna,” she said, her eyes wide with remorse as they held mine in the mirror. “It wasn’t intentional.”
I forced a warm smile back, even though my stomach was turning in dreadful anticipation. “It’s okay.”
She nodded and continued pinning my hair in a messy bun.
The fresh tattoo on my arm burned beneath my robe sleeve, serving as a constant reminder of what had happened earlier.
And of who was waiting for me downstairs.
Mariah entered the room with a huge box in her hands.
She placed it on the bed and lifted the lid. “The Don sent this for tonight.”
It was a dress, but not just any dress.
The black fabric looked expensive, and it was almost completely see-through.
Delicate
