Chapter 227 Little Red

Chapter 227 Little Red
Bianca's POV

I stood in front of the full-length bedroom mirror, adjusting the thin straps of my dress.

It was a bold scarlet silk dress that clung to every curve of my body before falling straight to the floor, complete with a slit that ran all the way up to the middle of my left thigh.

Yes, I knew the rule.

Simon had sent the color swatch directly to my inbox, and Leon had made it clear that all partners were supposed to match in midnight navy blue.

But when I went to the boutique downtown after work, I couldn't stop getting irritated over the thought of wearing a blue dress at dinner.

Who decided on the wardrobe anyway? It was very dull.

And then after having my shower, the red one was hanging on the front mannequin, and it was far prettier than anything else.

Besides, a stubborn part of me refused to do what Leon told me to do.

He couldn't control what I ate, he couldn't control where I lived, and he certainly wasn't going to control what I put on.

Deep down, I knew he wouldn't actually turn me away from the gala at the door. He cared too much about public appearances for that and I had a feeling he wanted to always please me.

As odd as that might seem.

I was going to defy him and perhaps upset him as much as he'd upset me these past days.

‘Are you just trying to defy him to get his attention?’ A tiny, annoying voice whispered from the back of my mind.

I shook my head, waving the thought away.

Of course I wasn't trying to get his attention, I was just proving to him that I was an independent adult who could make her own choices.

I put on a pair of simple teardrop earrings and picked up the glass perfume bottle from the vanity table.

It was lavender and fresh green apple.

The moment the mist hit my neck and wrists, I froze and inhaled deeply.

This was Leon's favorite. He had mentioned to me more than once how much he loved sniffing my hair when I wore this.

‘And this is the night you choose to wear it?’ that same little voice whispered again.

"Shut up," I muttered to myself.

I set the bottle down, dabbed a tiny bit of powder across my nose, and grabbed my small clutch from the bed.

Who was I kidding anyway? I didn't need layers of makeup. I was young, and my face looked fine on its own.

For a second, the faces of the women from those BDSM photos flashed through my mind.

My chest felt constricted.

I couldn't stop comparing myself to them. They were tall, mature, and striking in a way that made me feel small and second-class.

I had never felt inadequate before.

People always said I was beautiful. I had a slender, petite frame, smooth olive skin, and strawberry-blonde hair with natural copper and brown highlights.

Frankly, I took good care of my body, and I had heard other women compliment my skin and features plenty of times.

I had never doubted how I looked until recently.

Seeing those pictures had planted a nasty doubt in my head.

Was Leon settling for me because of my age? Were those older, polished women something I could never match?

"Stop it," I whispered out loud. "You are letting him get under your skin."

I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway outside and I quickly checked my phone.

It was eight in the evening. Thomas was right on time.

I took a deep breath, relieved that it was the old driver.

Thomas was quiet. He knew how to keep his mouth shut, how to drive, and how to keep his opinions to himself.

He was the only person from the Steele estate I could tolerate seeing right now.

I walked out the front door, locked the door and walked down the stone steps.

Thomas was leaning against the side of the sleek black sedan, holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

It was a bad habit he had picked up over the years, and he constantly apologized for doing it on duty.

But I didn't mind. Everyone had their poison, and I wouldn't be surprised if dealing with the Steele family drove a man to smoke a pack a day.

The moment Thomas saw me walking down the steps, his eyes widened slightly.

He immediately dropped the cigarette onto the gravel, stomped it out with the sole of his leather dress shoe, and bowed his head in a quick, clumsy motion.

"I am so sorry, Miss Bianca," he mumbled with his usual apology, rushing to pull the rear door open. "Terrible habit of mine."

"It's fine, Thomas. Thank you," I said, offering him a small smile as I gathered my long red skirt and slid into the leather seat.

"Good evening, ma'am," he said, shutting the door.

I smiled through the glass, but I didn't say anything else, and Thomas wasn't the kind of man to push for small talk.

He walked around the front, slid behind the wheel, started the engine, and pulled smoothly out of the gates toward the downtown banquet hall.

As we drove, I kept glancing down at the screen of my phone.

A part of me wondered if the unknown woman from last night would call to update me about our meeting.

But another part of me knew that a call right now would be too risky.

It was supposed to be a secret.

If she rang while I was sitting in the back of Leon's sedan, Thomas might hear something, and the whole plan would fall apart.

We had barely been on the main road for ten minutes when the engine gave a strange, sputtering jerk.

The car slowed down and then came to a stop.