Elena's POV
"You weren't kidding," I said, my fingers brushing the fabric. It looked expensive. Dangerous. Like it belonged to someone who didn't flinch when threatened.
"I never joke about fashion," Callum replied, closing the door behind me. "Bathroom's down the hall. Go try it on. I'll be in the kitchen, making sure the wine is dramatic enough to match your vibe."
I gave him a small smirk and disappeared down the hall.
The dress fit like it was made for me—soft against the skin, but structured where it mattered. I stared at my reflection. I looked... unbreakable. And maybe, just maybe, a little dangerous.
When I stepped out, Callum let out a low whistle. "Damn, Elena."
I raised a brow. "Too much?"
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You need to feel powerful tonight. Maybe even a little reckless."
I glanced at him. "Are you saying I'm not already reckless?"
