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I grin. The Di Zaro queen.

Another text comes through before I can reply.

I'm thinking something floor-length. Off the shoulder. The gold catches light like water. You'll look like a goddess. Make your husband very happy.

I tap the pen against my jaw.

She's not wrong. The last dress Irina made me literally stopped Dante when he saw me in it.

And we do have that fancy event next week.

I'm in. When are you coming over?

A couple of minutes pass before she replies.

You come to me. You come see where the magic happens.

I smile. I like the idea. I would love to see how she weaves her magic, and it gets me out of the penthouse for a while.

When shall I come look?

Today. I have the bolt here at the studio. Come this afternoon. I'll do measurements, we'll pick a silhouette, I'll have sketches by tomorrow.

Done. See you at 4.

Deno, Freddie, and I arrive at The House of Irina Couture right on 4 p.m.

“I’ll come inside with you,” Freddie says.

“You can stay in the car. I’ll only be ten minutes, fifteen at the most.”

He reaches for the door handle. “Dante won’t like it if I don’t accompany you.”

“I’ll be getting in a state of undress, Freddie. I’m pretty certain Dante wouldn’t like you being in the room when that happens.”

“Then I will shade my eyes with my hands or turn my back.”

Deno’s hand moves away from his door handle. "Yeah, you go, Freddie. I’ll stay right here."

I can see Freddie is coming inside no matter what.

"Fine, just no peeking."

Freddie slides his gaze to me. "Ma'am, I've taken two bullets for this family. Peeking is how I'd earn the third."

“Freddie, my friend, you need a raise,” I say, reaching for the door handle.

Outside the car, he follows me up the steps.

When I push through the design studio’s front door, Irina greets me warmly. “Solnyshko!"

She kisses both my cheeks.

"You came fast. Good. Come, come. You have to see this fabric before I faint from looking at it."

I laugh. "It’s that good?"

"Darling, it’s better than good." She takes my hand and pulls me toward the back room. "Henri, my supplier, hand-looms this on a machine from two centuries ago. Can you imagine? And nothing compares. You can't replicate it."