Chapter 47

Isabella’s POV

The dress fit too well, and I hated it. When I’d walked in here, a tiny part of me had hoped that it wouldn’t fit at all—had hoped that it would turn out ugly. Why? Just so I could prove to Alessandro that he didn’t always know what was best and that he had a shitty taste in fashion.

But I was wrong. Very wrong.

I stared at the mirror in front of me against my better judgment, before letting out a small sigh. The fabric clung to my body like it knew every secret curve. Red silk, cut low at the front, with a slit that soared far too high against my thigh.

It whispered luxury, danger, power.

It whispered his world, and I hated the way it made me feel. I hated how, deep down, I couldn’t deny the fact that I actually liked it.

I took a break from admiring the dress, before turning to my reflection in the mirror. At this point, I think it was safe to say that I looked nothing like my old self. No recognition, no warmth, jus