C81 Cloaked in Sin and Silk
The moment the door clicked shut, the room erupted into motion.
Five women descended on me like artisans working on their greatest masterpiece.
Hands moved fast, practiced—pinning, brushing, tightening.
"Mrs. Blade, lift your chin." A firm hand angled my face, a cold swipe of contour gliding against my cheekbone.
"The dress is prepped—bring the gloves."
Rhinestone mesh slid over my fingers
