Page 45 of Call You Mine

The one I’m currently wearing, one a little on the sexier side which is exactly my style, is a white, Chantilly Lace set–a lace see through bra and a matching thong. Around my waist is a garter belt in the same fine lace, clipped onto a pair of nude stockings with small rhinestones delicately glued along the mesh.

I paired the look with some white Manolo pumps and diamond jewelry. My hair sits in soft waves over my shoulders, the platinum blonde nearly identical to the lace on my body.

“Just a few more shots from behind and we’re done for the day.”

Relief washes over me, not because she said we’re almost done, but because I’ll soon have the photos I need to set my plan into motion. This specific piece was what I chose for my personal collection and I cannot wait to see if Damon approves.

“So tell me again, who are these special photos for?” Liza, Kara’s wife and the designer of the beautiful lingerie I’m wearing, asks as we walk over to Kara’s computer to look at the last few shots she took.

“For some sexy, stubborn idiot who doesn’t recognize a good thing even if it’s standing naked in front of him. I’m hoping if I’m standing in this beautiful piece it might just change his mind.”

Kara scoffs, setting her camera down on the table and clicking through the photos on her computer screen. “The guy is a fucking fool if he’s saying no to you, Wynter. I’m happily married to the sexiest woman on the planet, but goddamn, woman. You are perfect.”

Liza agrees, giving me a little wink. The two of them are equally gorgeous. Kara’s rocking a wavy pixie cut, her black hair still long enough to cover her ears, a decent amount of makeup, and is dressed head to toe in black leather. Liza, the more feminine of the two, is wearing a cute summer dress with cap sleeves and thin cardigan tied around her neck.

They complement each other perfectly. Light and darkness, kind of like Damon and me.

Ugh, there he is, in my goddamn thoughts again. “Thank you ladies, this one’s a hard-headed fucker, but I think I can break him so long as this,” I shimmy, moving the little rhinestone tassels attached to the cups of the bra—the only thing coveringmy nipples thought the see-through fabric. “Gets him on his knees.”

“Oh, I know. Come.” Kara motions for me to follow her over to the full-length mirror against the wall. Its intricate gold frame looks antique, but like it was purposefully made that way. Refurbished from its original form with a fresh coat of paint made to match the rest of the decor in the studio. Much like you’d expect a boudoir studio to look, the walls and furnishings make the space appear to be fit for a royal.

A large, four-poster bed with an elegant tufted headboard sits in the middle of the room. On the far side, beside the window is a matching chaise delicately arranged atop a beautiful cream-colored fluffy rug. The walls are off white, bare except for the various frames arranged like a gallery wall that can be switched out depending on the style of the shoot. For example, the campaign is based on luxury, so the photographs in the frames resemble that. Palaces, landscapes of the Parisian countryside, chateaus in France, fashion, diamonds, everything I was once very familiar with.

Kara picks up a few stray items off of the floor and tosses them onto the bed. “I’ll send you the photos so you can do whatever it is you’re plotting, but in the meantime, I say we give the asshole something to pine about.”

She positions me so I’m in full view of the mirror, one hand behind my back, my hip popped out to one side, while Liza moves over to fix my hair. Liza fluffs out the already voluminous blow out they gave me, and applies slightly darker lipstick to my lips before motioning for me to rub it in. The shade is Bordeaux, a color I wouldn’t have chosen but I’ll admit I’ll be adding it to my collection. Liza runs her finger over my bottom lip, smearing the lipstick slightly.

“There, perfect. Now take out your phone.” Kara moves behind me and walks over to the end of the room beside the bed.I watch her in the mirror as she moves to stand in a way that only her legs, combat boots, and leather jacket are visible. Liza slides the cart of camera equipment and the clothing rack full of the other changes of lingerie I wore, into view.

“What are you two up too?” I ask, watching them through the mirror. Their smiles grow wide giving them away, and as Liza approaches me with my cellphone in hand, I figure it out.

“Why not give him a little taste with a sexy mirror selfie,” Liza says, winking at me as she turns to where Kara stands behind us. “No harm in a little leather coming into view behind you.”

Kara looks at us over her shoulder. “I’ve lost count of the times someone has come up to me and said sir while I’m facing away from them.”

Liza points the small remote in her hand up toward the surround sound.Jealousy, Jealousyby Olivia Rodrigo plays on the speakers above.

“You want me to send him a photo where you're in the background, and he’ll mistake you for a man.”

“Jealousy, the little green fucker, is the one thing that can make any man break. Regardless of how strong or how in control they claim to be. The idea of their woman being with another, the effects should ought to be scientifically investigated.”

I snap almost twenty photos, suddenly self-conscious about the way I look. I’m the queen of confidence, yet at this moment, my insecurities are getting the best of me.What if he doesn’t like it? Does it look like I’m begging? Am I coming off desperate? What if I’m too skinny? What if I’m not curvy enough?

Thankfully, the scars from Enzo have healed quickly and have left no trace behind of the horrors I lived that night. The ones on the inside take longer to heal and once they do, I’m not sure it will be enough to ensure they’re never reopened. Nothing a little makeup and a bright smile can’t cover up.

“Stop overthinking darling, and just send it. You look fucking hot in all of them. And if this doesn’t work, get him to the eye doctor or better yet, check him into an asylum.”

I laugh at Kara’s unconventional pep talk, but it works. It’s been so long since I’ve had a friend, or anyone to talk to for that matter. Being locked away in Enzo’s penthouse was lonely. The only people around were his men who I steered clear from, the help I was forbidden to talk to, or the women in his family who looked at me with such utter disdain, it was best for me to keep as far away from them as possible.

And since I’ve been back, I’ve only been with Damon, except for the brief conversations at Stella’s wedding and the disaster of lunch with my mother.

I’m surprised she’s kept her distance and hasn’t hounded me with any more of her pathetic threats, but I fear it won’t be long before she once again appears with some new ultimatum.

I need to come up with a way to get her the money, or at least make her believe I have.

Opening up my messaging thread with Damon, I type a quick message, deleting it and rewriting it four times before Liza yanks the phone out of my hand.

“Oh, give me that,” she says as her fingers tap away on the screen reading aloud what she’s writing.

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