The Mafia King’s Queen
We sat among teacups that were half full and a spill of fabric swatches she'd insisted on showing m, ivory, cream, a pale blush that shone when it caught the light.
"This one's my favorite," she said, holding a sample against my cheek. "It makes your skin look like porcelain."
I laughed softly. "You'd be a dangerous stylist, Rosalia. You could talk anyone into wearing anything.".
“Because I'm always right.” She smiled. "Aria is coming soon so we’ll all go shopping for dresses, get our nails done, spa and the likes.”
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