Chapter 58 A Taste Of Freedom

• “Are you sure about this dress, Dante? It's a little…provocative,” I asked as I looked at myself in the mirror.
• The dress was beautiful, hugging my curves in all the right places, but it left very little to the imagination. It was a deep, sultry red—the color of temptation. The fabric clung to my body like a second skin, dipping low in the front to reveal a teasing amount of cleavage, while the back was entirely open, held together by thin crisscrossing straps that barely did the job. The thigh-high slit revealed a dangerous amount of leg with every step I took, and the satin shimmered under the light like liquid fire.
• Dante stepped up behind me, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “That’s the point,” he said smoothly. “You’ll have every man in that room watching you—and every woman hating you.”