The dress Vittorio chose for me was not subtle.
It was white. Pure, blinding, innocent white silk, embroidered with thousands of tiny pearls. It was a wedding dress without the veil. A dress designed to say: Look at the Virgin Princess, returned to her Kingdom.
I stood on the podium in the dressing room while three maids pinned the hem. My face was painted to hide the bruises from the tunnel and the shadows under my eyes.
"Where are they?" I asked the reflection in the mirror.
Vittorio was standing behind me, adjusting his cufflinks.
"Who?"
"Rook. Sienna," I said, meeting his eyes in the glass. "I know you have Cassian. But I want to know about the others."
"The mute is downstairs with your boyfriend," Vittorio said casually. "As you knoe they are... getting reacquainted with Luca. As for Sienna? She is in the library. We are negotiating. She is a businesswoman, after all. She understands that betting on a dead horse—or a dead Underboss—is bad strategy."
