The dress

Chapter 16

The Dress

Amara Queen had a problem.

A serious problem.

A deeply irritating problem.

The problem currently sat across from her desk looking entirely too pleased with himself.

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Lorenzo Vitale smiled.

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Amara hated that smile.

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Not because it was unattractive.

Unfortunately.

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Quite the opposite.

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The realization annoyed her.

Deeply.

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"Stop that."

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Silence.

Immediate silence.

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Lorenzo blinked.

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"What?"

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"Whatever that is."

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The mafia don looked genuinely confused.

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Interesting.

Very interesting.

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"I'm sitting."

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"You're being smug."

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Silence.

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The smile widened.

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The traitor.

The complete traitor.

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Amara immediately regretted speaking.

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Because now he looked delighted.

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Unacceptable.

Completely unacceptable.

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The office door opened before she could continue the argument.

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One of her assistants entered.

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Carrying a large garment bag.

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Interesting.

Very interesting.

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Amara frowned.

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"What's that?"

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The assistant hesitated.

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Then looked toward Lorenzo.

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Silence.

Immediate silence.

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Amara slowly turned.

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Dangerously.

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The mafia don suddenly found the ceiling fascinating.

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The betrayal.

The suspiciously-quiet betrayal.

Undefeated.

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"Lorenzo."

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His name came out slowly.

Carefully.

Like a surgeon selecting instruments.

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"Yes?"

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"What did you do?"

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The assistant wisely retreated.

Immediately.

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Very smart woman.

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Very, very smart woman.

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The office door closed.

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Leaving the garment bag behind.

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Evidence.

Damning evidence.

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Lorenzo sighed.

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Immediately.

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The universal sound of a man who knew he'd been caught.

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"I bought you a dress."

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Silence.

Absolute silence.

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Amara stared.

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Then stared harder.

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Because surely she'd misheard.

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Possibly hallucinated.

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Maybe she needed more sleep.

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Interesting.

Very interesting.

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"You what?"

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"A dress."

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The answer came confidently.

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Which somehow made everything worse.

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Much worse.

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"Lorenzo."

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"Amara."

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The audacity.

The complete audacity.

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She pointed toward the garment bag.

Immediately.

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"Why?"

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The mafia don leaned back.

Comfortable.

Relaxed.

Dangerous.

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"I have an event."

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Silence.

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Amara waited.

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Then:

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"And?"

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"And I want you there."

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The room froze.

Immediately.

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Interesting.

Very interesting.

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Because something about the statement felt different.

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Not business.

Not strategy.

Not the underground hospital.

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Personal.

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Dangerously personal.

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Amara crossed her arms.

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"No."

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The answer came instantly.

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Without hesitation.

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Without mercy.

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Lorenzo nodded.

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Like he'd expected that.

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Interesting.

Very interesting.

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Then:

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"I already RSVP'd for two."

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Silence.

Absolute silence.

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The betrayal.

The premeditated betrayal.

Undefeated.

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Amara considered homicide.

Briefly.

Professionally.

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Then she stood.

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Walked toward the garment bag.

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And unzipped it.

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Silence.

Immediate silence.

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Because the dress was beautiful.

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Annoyingly beautiful.

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Deep emerald green.

Elegant.

Sophisticated.

Expensive.

Very expensive.

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The kind of dress that looked timeless.

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The kind of dress designed for queens.

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Interesting.

Very interesting.

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Amara hated how much she liked it.

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The traitorous dress.

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The complete traitorous dress.

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Behind her, Lorenzo smiled.

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The worst kind of smile.

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Victorious.

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"Don't."

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Silence.

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"What?"

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"Look victorious."

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The mafia don laughed.

Immediately.

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The sound echoed through her office.

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Warm.

Rich.

Dangerous.

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A growing problem.

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A serious problem.

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The evening of the gala arrived three days later.

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Amara spent exactly forty-five minutes deciding she hated formal events.

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Then another twenty deciding she hated Lorenzo.

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Mostly.

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Possibly.

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Not really.

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Interesting.

Very interesting.

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The dress fit perfectly.

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Of course it did.

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The man apparently investigated clothing sizes now.

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A concerning development.

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Her Afro had been shaped and styled.

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Gold jewelry rested against dark skin.

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The emerald dress hugged her curves beautifully.

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And for the first time all week...

Amara felt nervous.

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The realization horrified her.

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Immediately.

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Because Dr. Amara Queen did not get nervous.

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Ever.

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The knock on her penthouse door arrived precisely at seven.

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Naturally.

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Lorenzo struck her as the punctual type.

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The door opened.

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Silence.

Absolute silence.

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Lorenzo Vitale froze.

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Completely.

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Interesting.

Very interesting.

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The man stood in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo.

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Handsome.

Dangerously handsome.

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The kind of handsome that should probably be regulated by the government.

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A public safety issue.

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His dark eyes met hers.

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Then remained there.

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And remained there.

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And remained there.

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The betrayal.

The staring betrayal.

Undefeated.

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For the first time since meeting him...

The mafia don appeared speechless.

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Amara immediately decided she liked that.

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Very much.

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Finally...

After nearly a full minute...

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Lorenzo cleared his throat.

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Once.

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Then said:

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"You look beautiful."

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Silence.

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Dangerous silence.

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The kind that settled somewhere beneath her ribs.

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Warm.

Unfamiliar.

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Interesting.

Very interesting.

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Amara stared.

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Then adjusted her bracelet.

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A tactical retreat.

Nothing more.

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"You're staring."

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The words came out softer than intended.

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Lorenzo smiled.

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Slowly.

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Dangerously.

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"Yeah."

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A pause.

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"Because you're beautiful."

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Silence.

Absolute silence.

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And for the first time in a very long time...

Dr. Amara Queen had absolutely no comeback.

End Chapter 16

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