Page 42 of Bad Little Bride

“Of course.” Grandma nods, pouring my wine and setting it back down on the rolling cart she parked beside the makeup chair.

“My sister will wear an open back,” I say as way of reason, focusing on Jazzy. “What does that leave?”

She quickly moves things around, and then I’m staring at two gowns, one a deep purple with a square set to the shoulders and plunging neckline that stops just below the breastbone, but it’s the other that has a small smile tipping my lips.

“And we have a winner.” Jazzy plays with her necklace, eyes glued to the stretchy material like she’s memorizing every detail, which should be simple enough considering.

I look to her hand, to the where her finger presses against the circular pendant hanging from a familiar, if only thinner, gold chain. A frown pulls at my brows, but before I can ask anything, not sure I would have, she clears her throat, tucking it beneath her shirt. “The more I look at this, the more perfect it looks for you. Okay. Let’s do this.”

I’m measured, then shoved back into Jayden’s chair when Jazzy announces the dresses Enzo had ordered are already tailored to my exact measurements.

Face wiped clean of the facial mask, my hair removed from the clip, and wine is thrust into my hand. I do all I can to sit back and enjoy the glamour session, even if I am fully capable of making myself presentable for an upscale event, but I am grateful not to have to, even if that isn’t the reason these women were called here today.

My mind is running a mile a minute, half thoughts and concerns stressing me out before a new one blooms, and it starts all over again.

If these are Grandma’s daughters, does that mean they were raised with Enzo? How well do they know him?

How well does he know them?

Well, obviously if he trusts them in his house unsupervised. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to me that there are zero women who work for him, and no, Grandma doesn’t count. She only seems to work for me.

Why did he tattoo my lips on his skin?

Why does it thrill me beyond reason that he did?

I want to be a spoiled little bitch, do the wholeI kissed it so it’s mine. Dig my nails into the opposite side and pet him like my favored toy in front of anyone who will watch.

It’s ridiculous to be possessive over someone you hardly know, but the urge to do so is there regardless. Even if in the next second, all I want to do is knee him in the nuts for putting me in this situation.

A second wife. I’m someone’ssecondwife just like I’m the second daughter.

It just doesn’t end, does it?

It’s not until I’m slipping into the dress of the night that my mind settles on one thing, a thought that shouldn’t draw a smile to my face but does.

Enzo was simply trying to get a rise out of me earlier when he said he’d take Ann-Marie. He wouldn’t have. He couldn’t have…because these dresses weren’t made to be able to fit us both.

They were made for me specifically.

But that smile drops the instant I spin to face Grandma and see the sparkling monstrosities dangling from both hands.

“No.”

“Yes,” she challenges. “I’ve locked your door and the only way to get inside the room now would be to ask Enzo for the key. Should I show you to him?” Her tone is silky sweet, and honestly kind of bratty for being a seventy-something-year-old.

With a fake smile, I take the hazardous heels and sit.

It takes effort and about a teaspoon of Vaseline, but I managed to push through the pain and make my way into the elevator in time.

I close my eyes when the doors press together, and I don’t open them until the ding sounds, letting me know I’ve reached the first floor. I don’t expect Enzo to be standing there waiting the second they do.

My gaze instantly snags his, though he only holds the contact for one heartbeat, lowering it and following the length of my body at the same steady pace. When his attention falls to the shiny statement pieces on my feet, I fight the urge to curl my toes within them. Not that there’s much room for that, but a habit is a habit for a reason. As thorough as his perusal down was, it follows the same path upward, pausing a moment longer at the highest point of the slit, my entire thigh on display, more than it should be with the slanted way I’m standing.

“My first choice,” he rasps, his attention snapping to my hair and back.

The elevator doors threaten to close me inside, but his arm shoots out to stop them, his eyes not bothering to hurry theirway back to mine, rather admiring the long rope-like diamonds in my ears.

“Odd, considering it was the exact opposite of the other options.” I push past him, staring at his reflection in the glass ahead as he turns, his dark gaze following my every step, settling on my ass.

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