Victor's taste was horrible. At least it didn't match my opinion of fashion. He wanted me to wear the weirdest combinations of colors.
"No white," I declared. I wasn't getting married or attending a wedding. I definitely was not leaving with an easily stained dress.
We climb up and down stores in the huge plaza. I choose whatever I like, but just enough to take back to London. I was definitely not staying here. That is, if I was ever let free.
Finally we enter the last shop, before Victor gave up. I rummaged through the fabrics and all the items they had. Two pieces catch my eye. They stood out like jewels against a bunch of dirt. A navy blue gown hung over on the left rack beside a devilish, dark, crimson.
Victor held one and Dante held the other. I stood there hand on my chin, deciding which I liked better. "I'll take both," I said. These were the only royal things I had bought. I look through the gap between both the boys standing in front of me.
In the opposite rack I spot a black laced top. "I'll take that too," I pointed. It was a thin lacy fabric. You would have to wear something opaque underneath if you didn't have intentions of exposing yourself.
Victor grunted. I leaned into his ear. "If you want me to come, I might as well wear what I like." He didn't flinch but it was another chance for me to inhale the scent of his cologne.
On the drive back to the hotel, I start listing out sewing supplies that I wanted.
"What for?" Victor hissed.
"That, you don't need to know," I grin, using his own words against him. I hear him let out an exhausted sigh, and the he tells Dante to return with the supplies.
I get out of the car, and grab the bag with the dresses and the top. I don't think I've enjoyed shopping more, but this royal treatment was something I could definitely get used to. That is, if there weren't so many restrictions to simply existing.
The sewing supplies are delivered to my door. In the meantime. I had sketched out my whole design. We weren't wealthy back in London. I picked up a few talents in the 21 years I was alive. Designing and making fashionable clothing was one of them.
I cut out pieces, and stitched bits together until I had combined both dresses in a meaningful and elegant way.
I had ripped off the top of the blue gown, and stitched it with the skirt of the red one. Then I took the remaining cloth from the blue gown and layered it into ruffles around the skirt. The sleeveless top would be something that Victor would kill me for wearing.
I rip off about an inch or two of the black lacing top and line it across the waistline. Finally, I take the remaining of the black laced top which was now just a cropped top for design, and place it over the head of my mannequin. It hung gently over the silky cloth.
My final piece was complete. It looked like something a princess would wear.
This party was going to be interesting.
I take a moment to think.
If they're all gangsters, then they would all be armed. If they were all armed I had immense chances of being shot to death.
I don't overthink much, but this bastard Victor makes me second guess every move I make. Yet, I feel like he is the safer choice. But this life was so dangerous.
I hated it so much.
<~~~~>
YOU ARE READING
To Find Isabel
General Fiction"I have no obligation to take orders from a cheap gangster who kidnapped his enemy's daughter because he's too much of a coward to go face to face." "Watch your mouth," he growls, his grip tightening. "Or what?" I sneered. ••••• In an effort to hold...
