Chapter 7 - The Wardrobe
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I woke up the next morning enveloped in silk sheets that felt like spun water. The bedroom I had been given was massive, featuring a fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a frozen lake, and a bed large enough for three people.
I threw off the covers and walked toward the adjoining bathroom. That’s when I noticed the closet.
The heavy mahogany doors were slightly ajar. I pulled them open and gasped.
The walk-in closet was completely stocked. Rows of expensive dresses, tailored blouses, cashmere sweaters, and designer coats hung in immaculate order. Beneath them sat dozens of pairs of shoes—heels, boots, and flats.
I cautiously pulled a dark green wool dress from the rack. The tag had been removed, but I recognized the designer label. I held it up to myself in the mirror. It was exactly my size. Even the shoes were a perfect size seven.
A soft knock on the bedroom door interrupted my shock.
“Come in,” I called out, clutching the dress to my chest.
A young woman in a neat uniform stepped inside, carrying a silver tray with coffee and fresh pastries. “Good morning, Miss Emma. Mr. Caruso requested that you join him in the study whenever you are ready. He hopes the wardrobe is to your liking.”
“He bought all this overnight?” I asked, bewildered.
“Mr. Caruso is a very efficient man,” the maid smiled politely, setting the tray down. “He prefers the people under his roof to be comfortable.”
I took a shower in a marble bathroom that felt like a spa, then slipped into the green wool dress. It fit flawlessly, hugging my curves in a way that made me feel powerful rather than exposed. I left my hair down and walked out into the grand hallway.
I found the study at the end of the corridor. The door was open. Dante was sitting behind a massive oak desk, reviewing a stack of documents. He looked up as I entered.
The pen in his hand stopped moving. His silver eyes swept over me, drinking in the sight of the dress, the transformation from an exhausted waitress to a woman who belonged in his world.
“You look breathtaking,” Dante murmured, his voice rough and low.
May you like
“You bought me a wardrobe,” I said, crossing my arms defensively, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. “I feel like a doll you’re dressing up.”
Dante stood up and walked around the desk. “You are not a doll, Emma. But if you are going to stand beside me in this city, you need armor. Consider those clothes your armor.”
