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I glance around the room at the sheer abundance of clothes and accessories. It’s overwhelming. Nicolas isn’t just wealthy—he exists on an entirely different level. A millionaire many times over. A man who is accustomed to getting whatever he desires whenever he wants it.

And now, apparently, I’m one of those things.

The men finish arranging the closet and leave without another word. Mary stays behind, holding a small box.

“This is for you,” she says, handing it to me.

Everything they’ve brought in here is for me. Why is this one suddenly special?

I take it, my fingers brushing against the smooth black ribbon around the lid. I hesitate for a moment before pulling it open.

Inside is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.

It’s a deep emerald green, the fabric shimmering faintly under the light. The neckline is elegant, dipping suspiciously low, but I don’t mind. The sleeves are made of delicate lace. It’s the kind of dress that demands attention, that makes you feel like royalty just by wearing it.

Mary watches me carefully, as if trying to gauge my reaction.

“It’s… it’s beautiful,” I mumble, mostly to myself. Knowing it'll turn heads, I can already picture myself in the dress.

Nicolas wasn’t kidding about the accessory role he wanted me to play.

That thought dampens my mood, but I look back at the dress, and I don’t care. The dress is undeniably sexy, sending a tingle through my senses that’s impossible to ignore.

“Do you need a beautician to prepare you for tonight?” Mary asks.

“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I just need a makeup kit.”

She points to one of the bags near the bed. “Everything you need is in there.”

I nod, murmuring a quiet thanks as she exits the room.

I stare at the dress for a long moment, running my fingers over the soft fabric. I don’t want to become attached to it, so I close the box and set it down.

It’s just a dress. Just a dinner. Get it together, Aria.

All day, I find myself glancing at the clock, half expecting Nicolas to storm in, bark orders, or make a sharp comment that sets my teeth on edge. But he doesn’t.

By the time evening rolls around, I’m restless from spending the day doing nothing.

I take my time getting ready. The makeup kit Nicolas sent has everything I need. My hands tremble slightly as I apply the eyeliner, but I look absolutely irresistible when I finish. The dress clings to my body in all the right places, and the neckline plunges even lower than I anticipated.

I use breast tape to hold everything in place and even wink at my reflection.

When I step downstairs, the driver is already waiting by the car. He nods and opens the back door for me.

I freeze when I spot Nicolas sitting inside.

He’s dressed in a sleek black suit with a deep emerald tie—the exact shade of my dress. His hair is perfectly combed, and his sharp jawline is clean-shaven. His presence dominates the space, making the car feel suffocatingly small.

For a moment, I consider turning around. But instead, I climb in, smoothing the fabric of my dress as I settle into the seat.

He doesn’t say anything at first, and all the confidence I felt earlier deflates. How could he remain silent when I look like this?

My pride is stung, but I still hope he’ll say something as the car pulls away from the mansion. He doesn’t.

I can feel his gaze on me, heavy and unrelenting, fixed on the side of my face.

After a moment, I snap my head toward him. “What? Not beautiful enough for you?”