Aria Montgomery Outfits Novels & Stories

I'm happy I didn't give in to the urge to dress simply in shorts and a tee because apparently dinner in the Montgomery's house was a black tie event. I was dressed in a free flowing baby blue colored dress. I paired it with a low heeled sandals hidden under the exquisite fabric. I knew I should have worn heels when I come down the stairs and see that I'm barely eye level with Roman's chest. He looks at me appreciatively, drinking me in as I do him. He looked very handsome with his sleeves rolled up and his tie hanging a bit loosely on his neck. His hair looked a bit rough, like he had run his hands through them a countless number of times.

He explained. “See you soon,” Atlas promised with a wink and was led out by the beta. A woman walked in with a sweet smile, holding a black dress with a plunging neckline. It had a pair of matching heels and some jewelry hanging on it. I frowned at the outfit, I really didn’t like wearing stuff like this. What if a fight broke out? You can’t be ready for anything in heels. “I don’t really think-” I started to protest but the woman was already behind me unzipping my skirt to help me out of it.

The raw, heavy power radiating off the young mafia queen was palpable, completely contrasting the bright, sunny morning outside. Amber took in Victoria’s appearance with a quiet gasp. Victoria was wearing a deep wine-colored mesh romper that hugged her curves flawlessly, the sheer fabric revealing the sharp, intricate lines of the tattoo etched directly in the center of her chest. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a tight, ultra-sleek ponytail, completely exposing her sharp jawline and the row of multiple diamond ear piercings glittering along her cartilage. She looked like a runway model who could double as an international assassin. Victoria’s smooth, commanding voice broke the sil

​The heavy oak doors of the library burst open, the sound echoing like a gunshot. ​Julian Montgomery marched in, his presence an explosion of frantic, toxic energy. He was dressed in a charcoal suit that cost five figures, but the fabric couldn't hide the way his frame seemed to have shrunk. The "Prince of New York" was gone, replaced by a man whose ego had been stripped raw and salted.

He thought maybe she had a bad dream and sat up because the vomit was on her stomach and the hem of her clothes. He chose to turn on the light on the headboard. He's accustomed to women dressing up; Monica, Montana, and Almira are the ones fond of drinking and often end up vomiting. But they usually wear bras. He's used to seeing women in two-piece outfits, except with Almira, his girlfriend, he got surprised.

Clara Montgomery POV The morning sun hit the glass towers of the city with a sharp, blinding glare. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the guest room, smoothing down the lapels of the charcoal-gray blazer Marco had provided. The fabric was heavy, structured, and felt like a shield. I tied my hair back into a low, tight bun. I needed to look completely untouchable today. When I walked out into the living area, Alexander was already waiting. He was dressed in a dark three-piece suit, looking over some documents on his tablet while sipping his coffee. He didn't say good morning. He just looked me up and down, giving a single, approving nod.