Dreams of the Deadly: A Dark Mafia Romance (Massacred Dreams Book 2) by Adelaide Forrest

Author:Adelaide Forrest [Forrest, Adelaide]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-28T23:00:00+00:00

26

THALIA

The silk of my robe settled onto my shoulders as I ran my hands through my hair in frustration and stared around the closet. The varying fabrics around the room were all new—all unfamiliar.

I gritted my teeth as I tried to think of what I could possibly do to get dressed without looking like a fool. I would not ask Christian for help where he waited downstairs, but the constant reminders of the fact that I couldn’t even dress myself without memorizing what matched and went well together during Lydia’s lessons made me sink down onto the tufted ottoman in the center of the room.

Christian knocked on the doorway to the closet as he peered in, his gaze not even hesitant. He’d known damn well I wouldn’t be able to dress myself in this situation, so had little fear that he might discover me naked. He’d seen it all anyway when they’d forced him to supervise my more severe punishments, so I doubted my privacy mattered much to him.

“You won’t find any color in your wardrobe aside from jeans, Monster,” he said, stepping into the space. He grabbed one of the dresses off the rack, draping it over his arm delicately so the fabric didn’t wrinkle. Carrying it over to me, he peeled back the neckline to reveal the silk tag sewn into the inside of the dress.

Light gray.

I reached out, running my fingers over the tag. “No color whatsoever?” I asked, bringing a smirk to his face as he took the dress back to the rack and hung it carefully while I asked, “How could Calix want his wife to exist in black and white and shades of gray? That’s not exactly feminine.”

“How could Calix want his wife to wear something she wouldn’t choose for herself?” he returned, raising a brow as he retreated from the closet. He pulled the door closed behind him, giving me the illusion of privacy for a few moments. Moving to the drawers beneath the shirt racks, I pulled one out to find a variety of bras staring back at me. The next drawer was filled with underwear.

Going to grab a white pair from each, Lydia’s words that I should "wear white for as long as possible after the wedding to remind Damianos of the innocence he’d taken" rang through my head.

I grabbed the darkest black I could find, the small rebellion filling me with the need to see it through as I stripped off the robe and hurried into the set. I walked to the pant section of the closet, grabbing a pair of jean shorts off the shelf.

The tag read dark gray denim. I knew enough from the fashion magazines I’d had shoved down my throat all my life that people wore just about everything with jeans, but I’d never been allowed to wear them. I couldn’t even remember the last time Lydia had let me wear pants.

I tugged them up my legs, letting the heavyweight fabric settle against my skin as I shimmied from side to side and buttoned them at my waist.

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