C114 In Good Hands

Annabelle barely had time to process Angelo’s unsettling words or quell the storm of emotions they’d stirred before one of Dante’s men entered the room.

His presence, as stoic and foreboding as always, immediately sent her mind spiralling.

“What now?” she thought, her frustration mixing with unease.

“Miss Whitaker,” the man said with a clipped tone, his face betraying nothing. “Mr. Cazador has asked for you.”

Her heart skipped as the book she’d been holding slipped from her fingers and landed on the plush carpet with a soft thud.

For a moment, she sat frozen, the man’s words echoing ominously in her mind.

Dante wanted to see her?

Now?

Why?

The memory of Angelo’s cryptic warning resurfaced, shaking her new-found resolve like a fragile leaf in a storm.

A fleeting thought crossed her mind.

Had they planned this?

“You go and shake her up with words while I summon her like a peasant?”

Had Angelo told Dante something to provoke this summons?

She tried to remember what she had said to Angelo to see what could have been a trigger for that unpredictable man.

She couldn’t find anything.

She swallowed hard as her chest tightened.

Pushing down her panic, Annabelle straightened her posture and masked her turmoil with a calm exterior.

“Alright,” she said, her voice steady even as her heart raced.

She rose and followed the man toward the door.

She had expected to be led to Dante’s office or maybe even his bedroom.

But instead, the man paused and said, “We’ll wait for you while you change.”

“Change?” Annabelle asked, confusion etched on her face.

“Yes, ma’am. Your outfit is waiting in your room,” he explained. “We’ll wait here until you’re ready.”

“What outfit?” she asked, her voice faltering slightly. She looked in the direction of Dante’s study and back at the man. “Is he not…? Where are we going?”

The man shook his head, his expression unreadable. “I wasn’t given that information.”

A fresh wave of unease swept through her as she turned to go to her room.

Her steps faltered as her mind raced.

“What is this about?”

Her breath hitched as a darker thought crept in.

Had she pushed him too far?

Was this his way of finally discarding her because she had gone too far?

She vaguely remembered Angelo’s words when he said she should decide before it was too late.

“Was it too late already?”

Her limbs felt heavy as she made her way to her room.

Once inside, her eyes immediately fell on the laid-out outfit.

The sight stopped her cold.

An insanely short red-and-white flared skirt and a tight-fitting top lay neatly on the bed.

Next to them were a matching red lace bra and thong.

Along with a pair of towering red heels that looked like something plucked straight from one of those cover girls' closets.

Her throat went dry.

“What is he up to now?” she thought as dread pooled in her stomach.

Trepidation mixed with an odd defiance as she began dressing.

She slipped into the skimpy outfit, the body-hugging top clinging to her curves and leaving little to the imagination.

Annabelle’s cheeks burned as she adjusted the skirt, realising it was so short that bending down would almost certainly flash her backside.

Her reflection in the mirror made her feel scandalous.

It was like she’d stepped out of a risqué cheerleading fantasy.

She ran her fingers through her hair, leaving it loose in soft waves.

And then she applied a light touch of makeup.

The boldness of the outfit felt like armour.

If she had to face Dante’s whims, she would do so, looking like a warrior in crimson.

“In the armour he picked” up. Her subconsciousness reared its head

The walk back downstairs felt like a gauntlet.

She didn’t bother to say goodbye to Cathy.

She was slightly embarrassed about what her sister’s reaction might be to her skimpy dress.

Also, her sister was having the time of her life with Maria at the moment and Annabelle saw no reason to interrupt that.

The thought of Cathy made hope surge in her heart a bit.

If he was going to get rid of her, he certainly would have told her to take Cathy along, right?

Definitely.

Every step made her feel more exposed, and more vulnerable.

But when she reached the waiting men, they didn’t so much as blink.

They stood as impassive as statues, their faces betraying no reaction to her unusual look.

All except Angelo.

His lips quirked into a knowing smirk that made her heart race for entirely different reasons. “Careful,” he said, his tone laced with both amusement and warning.

Annabelle’s nerves frayed further.

Was he referring to their earlier conversation about Dante’s heart, or was he genuinely worried for her?

Either way, his words only added to her unease.

“Are you coming with us?” she asked, her voice tinged with a hope she didn’t entirely understand.

Angelo shook his head. “I have other tasks for the boss this morning,” he replied smoothly, his expression giving nothing away. “You’ll be in good hands.”

Annabelle wasn’t so sure.

She slid into the car that had been prepared for her, the door held open by one of Dante’s men. The interior was luxurious, but the tension coiled tightly in her chest dulled her appreciation for its opulence.

The soft hum of the engine as they began to drive only amplified her unease.

Her mind raced with possibilities.

Where was he having his men take her?

Had she really pushed him too far this time?

Was this it?

She glanced out the window, her fingers clutching the hem of her scandalously short skirt.

The city blurred past in streaks of muted greys and reds, the car’s tinted windows adding an almost ethereal feel to the drive.

Her heart thudded in her chest with her mind swinging wildly between fear and indignation.

If Dante intended to discard her, surely he wouldn’t make her dress like this first, right?

Even if that was his intention, she would face it with her head held high.

She had survived worse.

But the thought of him rejecting her still left a hollow ache in her chest, one she couldn’t explain or ignore.

You’ll be in good hands, Angelo had said.

But Annabelle couldn’t shake the feeling that it would turn out to be a lie.