A Rare Outing

By early afternoon the decision had been made. Cassian arranged a private outing to an exclusive fashion boutique in the downtown commercial district. The entire establishment was cleared in advance. Enzo and two plainclothes details secured the street and the rear exits. When the armored car pulled up to the discreet side entrance, no other customers remained inside.

The boutique smelled of new fabric and expensive perfume. Soft lighting reflected off mirrored walls and low white couches. A single attendant waited near the back, professional and silent, then disappeared once Cassian gave a short nod.

Vittoria stood in the center of the main floor, a little uncertain. “You didn’t have to empty the place.”

“I did.” Cassian settled into a leather armchair near the fitting rooms, a glass of champagne already in his hand. “I want you to try things on without an audience.”

She glanced at the racks of silk gowns and structured jackets. “This feels excessive.”

“It’s practical. Pick whatever you want. We’re not leaving until you have at least three options for the next formal event.”

Vittoria moved through the racks slowly. The fabrics were heavier and finer than anything she had worn in years. She selected a deep emerald sheath, a winter-white column dress, and a sapphire backless gown with thin straps. The attendant had already prepared a private fitting room with soft lighting and a three-way mirror.

She stepped inside and closed the curtain. The first dress, the emerald, slid on easily. She adjusted the zipper and stepped out.

Cassian looked up from the chair. His eyes moved over her without hurry. “Keep that one.”

She tried the white next. It was more severe, clean lines and a high neck. He nodded once. “Also good.”

The sapphire dress was last. The fabric was cool against her skin. The back plunged lower than she expected, leaving her spine bare. She stood in front of the mirror for a moment longer than necessary before opening the curtain again.

Cassian set the champagne glass down. The shift in his attention was immediate. He rose from the chair and walked toward her.

“Turn around.”

She did. The silence stretched.

“Come here,” he said.

Vittoria stepped back into the fitting room. He followed and drew the curtain closed behind them. The mirrored walls reflected them from every angle. His hands settled on her waist, then slid slowly down the bare length of her back. The touch was warm and deliberate. When his palms reached the curve of her hips he cupped her firmly, pulling her back against him.

“This one,” he said near her ear. “We’re taking it.”

Her breath caught. “Cassian.”

“You look like you belong in every room that matters.” His hands stayed where they were, fingers pressing lightly into the silk. “And you look like you belong to me.”

The air in the small enclosure felt thicker. She could feel the solid line of his chest against her shoulder blades, the controlled strength in his grip. The earlier academic weight of the morning had fallen away, replaced by the simpler, sharper tension that always rose when he decided the distance between them was no longer acceptable.

He turned her to face him. One hand remained low on her back. The other rose to the side of her neck. “I cleared this entire building so I could watch you put these on without anyone else seeing what I see.”

“That’s possessive even for you.”

“It’s accurate.” He leaned down and kissed her, slow at first, then deeper. The mirrors caught every movement. When he finally eased back they were both breathing differently.

“We’re buying all three,” he said. “And you’re wearing the sapphire the next time we have to stand in front of people who need reminding that you are not a temporary arrangement.”

Vittoria rested her hands against his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m consistent.” He brushed his thumb once along the edge of the low back of the dress. “Change. The car is waiting. Enzo will have the bags loaded before we reach the door.”

She nodded, still a little unsteady. Cassian stepped out of the fitting room and returned to the armchair, retrieving his glass as if the last few minutes had been ordinary. Vittoria closed the curtain again and carefully removed the sapphire dress, the ghost of his hands still present on her skin.

When she emerged in her own clothes the attendant had already packaged the three gowns. Cassian rose, offered his arm, and guided her toward the side exit where the armored car waited. The street outside was quiet. The security detail moved with practiced silence.

As they settled into the back seat he rested his hand on her thigh, a quiet claim that needed no further words. The rare outing had done what he intended. The walls of the estate felt a little farther away, and the heat that had sparked in the mirrored enclosure traveled with them all the way back to the cliffs.