Chapter 3 - The Makeover
They didn't go to Dante’s penthouse. Instead, the SUVs pulled into the underground garage of a luxury hotel downtown. Dante had rented the entire top floor.
“The hearing is at nine,” Dante said as they entered a sprawling, immaculate suite. “You have exactly six hours to sleep. At six a.m., a team will be here to prepare you.”
Clara tucked an exhausted Leo into a king-sized bed that felt like a cloud. He was asleep before his head fully hit the pillows. Clara walked into the adjoining living room, where Dante was pouring a glass of amber liquid.
“You don't have to do this,” Clara said softly, wrapping her arms around her waist. “You could have just bought me a lawyer.”
Dante took a slow sip of his drink. “A lawyer can be bought out by Beatrice. A husband cannot. Go to sleep, Clara.”
When Clara woke at dawn, the suite was bustling. Three women with rolling racks of designer clothes and makeup cases were waiting. Dante sat in a leather armchair in the corner, reviewing documents on a tablet.
“Make her look untouchable,” Dante ordered the stylists without looking up.
For the next two hours, Clara was scrubbed, buffed, and styled. Her chestnut hair was blown out into sleek, cascading waves. The exhaustion was concealed beneath flawless, subtle makeup. When it came time to dress, the head stylist held up a tailored, ivory wool sheath dress and a matching cashmere coat.
When Clara finally stepped in front of the full-length mirror, she gasped. She didn't look like a frantic baker working graveyard shifts. She looked expensive. Powerful. She looked like a woman who commanded respect.
Dante finally looked up from his tablet. He went perfectly still. His dark eyes slowly dragged from her nude pumps, over the curve of her hips in the tailored dress, up to her wide, shocked eyes.
He stood up, walking toward her, and pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. He snapped it open. Inside rested an emerald-cut diamond ring so massive it made Clara dizzy.
May you like
He took her left hand and slid the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit.
“Remember the deal,” Dante murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You are mine now. Lift your chin, Clara. Let them see the monster’s wife.”
