Chapter 62 sixty-two
The next morning came and went without a single knock on Mira’s door.
No sign of Salvatore. No messages.
No attempts to force her downstairs.
The silence almost annoyed her.
She had expected him to barge in and order her around like he owned the place.
Instead, he left her alone.
By late afternoon, a knock finally came.
Three gentle taps.
Mira didn’t move.
“I’m leaving it outside, Miss,” one of the maids said nervously.
The footsteps faded.
Mira waited another minute before opening the door.
A large black garment bag rested neatly against the wall. Beside it sat a matching shoe box and a smaller velvet box.
She didn’t have to guess who had sent them.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered. “He really bought the dress.”
She carried everything inside and dropped it onto the bed.
For several seconds she simply stared at the bag.
Then, against her better judgment, she unzipped it.
The dress slowly slipped into view.
Her breath caught despite herself.
It was breathtaking.
Deep emerald green silk that shimmered whenever it caught the light. The fabric looked impossibly expensive.
The neckline dipped into a graceful sweetheart shape that framed the collarbone without being overly revealing. The bodice hugged the waist before flowing into a long fitted skirt that skimmed every curve and opened into a thigh-high slit on the left side. The back was almost completely bare, held together by delicate crisscrossed straps that looked elegant rather than flashy.
It wasn’t vulgar.
It was dangerous.
The kind of dress that made people stare without realizing they were staring.
Mira frowned. “Of course he’d choose something like this.”
She reached into the shoe box.
A pair of nude satin heels.
Simple. Elegant. Comfortable enough to survive an evening.
That surprised her.
Then she opened the velvet box.
Inside rested a pair of emerald earrings surrounded by tiny diamonds with a matching bracelet.
Her jaw tightened. “He really thinks he could get to me with this; he must be joking.”
She snapped the box shut.
There was another envelope underneath.
She almost ignored it before finally opening it.
Inside was a single handwritten note.
A stunning dress for a beautiful lady. The car leaves at six thirty. Would be waiting downstairs.
She laughed bitterly. “Control freak.”
The note landed in the trash.
She looked back at the dress. “I’m not wearing you.”
Five minutes later… She was still staring at it.
It irritated her how beautiful it was. It irritated her even more that it suited her taste perfectly.
“He remembered.”
The realization made her stomach twist.
She had once mentioned during a conversation that green had always been her favorite color.
He remembered.
She hated that. Almost as much as she hated herself for noticing.
She looked toward the clock.
Five fifteen.
“If I don’t go, he’ll come here.”
She did not doubt that.
And after yesterday…She didn’t want another scene.
Not with the servants watching.
Not when she planned to use tonight to find out more.
Slowly, she reached for the dress. “I’m not doing this for him,” she whispered. “I’m doing this for my investigation.”
Half an hour later, she stood in front of the full-length mirror. The dress fit as though it had been sewn directly onto her body.
Not a single crease. Not a single loose thread.
The fitted bodice emphasized her waist while the silk skimmed over her hips before falling gracefully to the floor. Every step revealed just enough of her leg through the slit to make the dress look effortlessly elegant.
She turned sideways.
The open back made her cheeks warm.
“That’s… excessive.”
Yet somehow it never crossed into inappropriate.
It was simply beautiful.
She hated admitting it.
The heels added just enough height to make her posture even straighter.
One of the maids knocked softly.
“Miss? May I help you with your hair?”
Mira hesitated. “…Come in.”
The maid smiled nervously before entering with a small makeup case.
“Mr. Corvin asked us to help if you allowed it.”
“Of course he did,” Mira muttered.
The maid pretended not to hear.
Within minutes, Mira’s hair had been swept into a soft twisted chignon at the nape of her neck. A few loose curls framed her face, making her look softer than she felt.
The makeup remained neutral.
Light foundation.
Soft bronze around her eyes.
Long lashes. A hint of blush. Rose colored lipstick.
Nothing dramatic.
Just enough to enhance what was already there.
When the maid stepped back, she smiled.
“You look beautiful, Miss.”
Mira looked at her reflection.
For a moment… She barely recognized herself.
She looked less like an exhausted reporter hiding inside a dangerous man’s mansion… …and more like someone who belonged among politicians and billionaires.
“I don’t feel beautiful,” she said quietly.
The maid’s smile faded. “ I know, especially after yesterday.” Then she quickly cut herself off. " Sorry, Miss.”
Silence settled between them.
Before leaving, the maid placed the emerald earrings into Mira’s hand.
“You forgot these.”
“I’m not wearing them.”
“They match the dress,” she said softly
“I don’t care.”
The maid nodded respectfully and quietly excused herself.
Once the door closed, Mira looked down at the earrings.
After a long moment…
She sighed. “Just because it suits the dress.”
That was the only reason.
Nothing else
She fastened them into place and slipped on the bracelet.
When she looked in the mirror again…Everything matched perfectly.
Too perfectly.
Another reminder that Salvatore had her wrapped under his hand.
That thought alone was enough to sour her mood.
She grabbed her clutch. “No matter how gorgeous the dress is…”
Her expression hardened. “…it doesn’t change the man who bought it.”
With one last glance at her reflection, Mira opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, ready to face the evening ahead. Somewhere downstairs, Salvatore was already waiting.