Page 148 of Their Princess

With a huff, I turned on the podium to face the mirror and then smoothed down my dress. In the reflection, I could see Graff’s broad, leather-clad shoulders, and finally, he glanced back at me. An easy smile spread across his face, and a thrill rushed through me. My core throbbed at the memories of yesterday morning.

Had that really only been a day before? And night before last that Sas had fucked me on the long table, Graff had given me an orgasm to prepare my body, and Rafe had watched it all. His eyes had burned into me, making the pleasure so much more intense.

“You have another dress picked out, don’t you, Adelina?” asked Mamà.

“Yeah.” I stepped down from the dais in front of the mirrors. “A couple.”

“Yes,” corrected Mamà. “The word is ‘yes,’ Adelina. You’ve been spending too much time with these crass bikers.”

“Perhaps I should wear leather rather than lace,” I snipped.

My remark worked to get the desired scowl from Mamà, and Caterina giggled as I hid an eye roll. Still, as Mamà wished, I headed into the next room. I had a rule about dresses since I was a kid: I would only wear one if I could put it on and take it off myself. However, I would have Sas; he liked to see me naked. But would he want to help me out of a wedding dress? And Graff liked to take care of me. And Rafe to...

I let the wedding dress pool around my ankles and stared at myself in the mirror.

My body hadn’t changed, but I felt like a new person, and I wondered if others could see how I’d changed. Perhaps there was a small light of wisdom in my eyes that hadn’t been there before. But that was dumb. Millions, no billions of people or more had sex every day. I was no unicorn in that. Could it have been that hope had sprouted?

Rolling my eyes at myself, I grabbed the next dress from the hanger. It was all right, my second choice, and I slipped it on. The bodice was snug to my top and flared at the bottom. The collar was tight around my neck but left my shoulders exposed. I smirked at the dress and what it showed as I turned to regard my back.

When I stepped out and took a spin, my mom gasped. Even Caterina cut off her yammering.

“You got a tattoo!” Mamà pushed to her feet faster than I had ever seen her move.

She halted a few feet in front of me, red in the face, and her finger jabbing at me. Still wearing his earbuds, Graff had left the front-of-store duty and was hanging off to the side, now watching us openly.

While my mother was eccentric—she had to be to deal with my father—she wasn’t violent. I wasn’t scared of her. In fact, I had to stop myself from laughing because of how ridiculously she acted. It was only a tattoo. A tattoo that Graff had given me, and he would probably give me more.

Mamà pulled at her hair. “Too much like those tactless bikers.”

“I kinda like it,” said Caterina, and Mamà whipped around to her.

“You will not get a tattoo,” she commanded.

“Come on, Mamà,” whined my younger sister. “Everyone has a tattoo now.”

“Not my daughters!” she gasped.

“Not yourdaughter!” Cat crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.

“Enough,” I muttered, admiring my dress in the mirror. The style was growing on me.

“We’ll use makeup to cover it up for the wedding,” said Mamà.

“No. We will not,” I said, the words stunning me as I said them. The tattoo was on my flank and the back of my shoulder, so I couldn’t see it, but I recalled that only a portion of it reached the place where it would be visible. I barely even remembered it was there, because it had already become a part of me.

“And then we can get you some laser treatments to remove it,” continued Mamà like she didn’t hear me. “Just wait until your father finds out. He may take a knife to it and—” She cut off with a shudder.

She didn’t need to finish.

Soft piano music played overhead, a creepy backdrop to the notion she just put out there.

“I’m wearing this dress for my wedding,” I declared.

“Fine,” muttered Mamà, taking a step back.

My mother didn’t agree to the dress, but she wasn’t going to fight now that she had my tattoo to focus on. She returned to her phone and started typing. Whatever she was looking up, I couldn’t spend the energy to care about.

Cat might still be under her thumb, but I refused to let her control me any longer. She lost that privilege when she condoned Papà’s deal with the MC.

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