Page 40 of Devil's Iris
ROMERO
Someone is at the door with a package for you.
A package? For me?My frown deepens. I glance out the floor-to-ceiling window, but this room faces the back of the house, not the front door, so I fire back a quick ‘okay’ and make my way back downstairs.
Sure enough, there’s a man standing at the front door with a dark purple box and a polite smile. “Miss Barlowe,” he greets, extending the box towards me.
Should I be creeped out that everyone in Romero’s orbit knows my name? Probably. But I decide to just roll with it and give him a small nod as I accept the mysterious package. “Thank you.”
He looks slightly taken aback by my response, but I close the door before I can think too hard about it.
I open the box right there, brushing aside layers of tissue paper, and actually gasp, almost dropping it.Oh my God.Nestled inside is a dark green silk dress, rich enough to steal allthe air from my lungs. Just seeing the color makes my heart skip—but then I run my fingers over the fabric, andholy hell.It’s so soft and smooth it barely feels real.
As I jog back upstairs with the package, the contents shift and I catch sight of a small black card tucked between a pair of gold heels and a sleek clutch purse.
Dinner in an hour. Get ready to say yes ;)
There’s no signature, but it’s obvious who it’s from. And even more obvious what those words mean. He’s planning to propose tonight. In public. My heart slams into my throat, and my stomach does a full-on somersault.
This is not real.
The little warning does absolutely nothing to slow my racing pulse or calm the butterflies staging a full revolt in my belly. When I reach the bedroom, I drop the box on the bed and find myself rushing straight to the ensuite to take a shower.
It’s my second time in this bathroom, but I’m still blown away by its sheer luxury. The glass shower could easily accommodate five people, the bathtub is deep enough to drown in, and the taps look like they’d dispense liquid gold if I asked nicely. It’s the kind of bathroom you’d expect in a five-star hotel, not a home.
I luxuriate under the multiple shower heads, the water cascading over me from every angle. The pressure is perfect, the temperature divine, and I spend way longer than I should just standing there letting the stress of the day wash away. When I finally drag myself out, I towel off in a hurry and make my way to the walk-in closet where I unzip my bag to retrieve my skincare and makeup products.
After applying my skincare routine, I return to the bathroom with my makeup bag and study my reflection in themirror. My right cheek is still red from Mom’s slap, and I have a sinking feeling it might bruise.Nothing some concealer can’t fix for now, though.
I go for a neutral look but make my eyeshadow slightly smoky because I love how it makes my eyes pop. When I’m satisfied with the result, I head back to the bedroom, making a beeline straight for the bed.
I have to admit I’m both eager to try on the dress and terrified it might not fit. The fabric flows over my arms as I lift it from the box, and it feels every bit as luxurious as it looks.
I slip into the sleek long dress, immediately loving the sleeveless bodice with its bow-tie detail on the spaghetti straps—a clever design that allows for perfect adjustment.Genius.
The cowl neckline dips just enough to feel elegant, and the scoop back opens up in a way that makes me feel daring. But the real showstopper is the skirt—an A-line sweep with a slit that starts right from the waist. One step, and it flares just enough to show off some leg.
And the material is so shiny!
The fabric catches the overhead lights as I spin, the train flowing with my movement. It’s unreal—like stepping into someone else’s fantasy. And somehow, it fits me perfectly, every line falling just right.How is that possible?
I turn back to the box where the gold heels and clutch are waiting. The shoes have strappy buckles that wind just past my ankles, and the matching clutch completes the look.
Walking slowly in the heels, I make my way to the bathroom for the reveal.
And then I see her—me—in the mirror.
My breath catches.
Even with my hair still in a messy bun, I barely recognize myself.
I’ve never looked or felt so sexy in my life.
I let my hair down, running a comb through the strands, and it just brings the whole look together.I love it.
Despite how horrible I felt after that encounter with Mom, I find myself smiling and looking forward to seeing Romero’s reaction.
It’s just past eight when I make my way downstairs and outside where the Maybach is waiting for me.
