Dashing is not even enough to describe Mr. Austin. He comes out of his room in an all-black ensemble.
Now I understand it, the custom-made suit fits him like a glove.
It’s classy. It screams money and power.
“You clean up good,” he smirks at my dress.
“The dresses…”
He raises a hand to stop me from saying anything further.
“Stop, just accept it,” he said.
“But they’re too much, I wouldn’t even have any use for those formal ones.”
He shrugs.
Staring at the intricate design on his vest. “Giovanni is a genius,” I said. “Three pieces are for events, I suppose?”
“And whenever I feel good, or when I need to go to battle,” he thumbs his cufflinks. “It’s my armor,” he adds.
“It’s worth every penny, sir,” the same tension from yesterday is present.
I didn’t sleep well because of what he pulled off in the dressing room.