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Ignoring him, I walk over to the mirror and exhale at the sight of the dress hugging my form.

The toasted champagne color is a shade lighter than my suntanned skin. I’m glowing and that makes me appreciate the countless hours I’ve spent outside in the past month.

“You like it?” The quiet question startles a gasp out ofme as Adonis appears over my shoulder, his eyes cast downward as he tugs at the laces of the corset near the small of my back.

“Does it matter?”

I adore the dress, but I don’t want to wear it anywhere with him.

“Guess not,” he answers, tightening the laces until my breaths are shallow. “But you look pretty anyway.”

The off-the-shoulder style has my neck and chest on full display, and Adonis takes his time observing every inch before his eyes slide down to the high slit on my right thigh.

“It’s perfect,” he praises.

This is only the second dress I tried on, but there was already a curated rack waiting when we got here. Now I wonder if he’d been the one to pick out the options instead of the shop owner. She’s been scarce since we walked in, so it doesn’t feel like a leap to land at that conclusion.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Delilah.” His hands find the hair at my nape, tugging until I’m looking up at him instead of his reflection in the mirror. “A shame you’re such a damn menace.”

Blinking up at him, the curl of his lashes almost hypnotizes me. “I don’t wanna go to the ball with you.”

A smile—a real one—curves his lips. “I didn’t ask. I know how much you like to pretend to forget things, but this arrangement isn’t about what you want. You do what I say until I’m done with you.”

“When will you be done with me?”

Eyes dark as coal jump over my face. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“You.”

His fingers slacken, unwinding from my hair and I know something is wrong when I miss his brutal grip.

“Forgive me for not wanting to go back to the place I was kidnapped,” I gripe, busying myself with arranging the skirt of the dress. I’m facing forward again, my stare locked with his in the huge mirror.

Fingering his collar, he grunts something inaudible before saying, “Come with me and Ivy gets protection.”

“Indigo.” He knows her damn name.

“Whatever.” Thick fingers comb through his locs. “Do we have a deal, Ms. Delilah?”

“Yes.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “But she can’t know she’s being watched. Indigo hates that. Just keep an eye on the apartment, so nobody gets to her.”

“Any other demands?”

“No.” I shake my head. “But if something happens to her, I can’t wait to see how one of your precious cars looks swallowed in flames.”

An unimpressed snort follows my threat. “Your negotiation skills need work. Arson is a crime, Delilah.”

“Call the cops, then.” I tilt my head, fluttering my lashes. “I’m sure they’d love to hear everything I’ve been up to for the past four weeks.”

Amusement flits across his features before he uses his hand to mask it. Rubbing his palm over his clean-shaven face, he inclines his head toward the curtain I emerged from.

“We’re getting this dress. Go change, Delilah.”

It takes me double the time to undo the laces on the back of the dress because asking him for help feels like a betrayal, but when I step out of the fitting room again, I run into Victor not Adonis.

His gentle smile warms me as he lifts a brown paper bag.