Chapter 3 - The Queen's First Armor
Three days later, the transformation began.
A fleet of black vans arrived at Vale House, spilling out high-end Italian dressmakers, diamond jewelers, and celebrity hair stylists hired personally by Grant Mercer under Adrian's strict orders.
Nora stood in the center of the grand dressing room, wearing a simple silk robe, surrounded by racks of velvet, satin, and lace.
The lead stylist, an arrogant Parisian named Claude, looked at Nora’s curvy, full-figured silhouette with a critical eye, tutting softly under his breath.
"Mon dieu," Claude muttered, holding up a sample dress. "We will have to alter everything. The waist, the hips... she is not built like the usual high-society ladies."
Before Nora could feel the sting of shame, the door behind them clicked open.
Adrian walked into the room. The entire team of stylists instantly bowed their heads, going completely still.
Adrian walked over to Claude, his eyes cold as steel. "What did you say?"
Claude swallowed hard, trembling. "Mr. Vale... I was merely noting that Miss Bennett has a... more substantial figure than—"
"She is perfect," Adrian said, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying growl that made the glass mirrors tremble. "She is built like a goddess. If your dresses do not fit her body, I will hire a designer who knows how to dress a real woman. Do you understand me?"
Claude turned ash-gray. "Y-yes, Mr. Vale! Of course! Forgive me!"
Adrian turned his gaze to Nora. His eyes softened instantly as he looked at her dark brown hair falling softly over her shoulders, her warm hazel eyes shining, her lush curves filling out the silk robe. He walked up to her, completely ignoring the stylists in the room.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long velvet box.
Inside rested a breathtaking necklace made of black diamonds and platinum—simple, heavy, and majestic.
"This belonged to my grandmother," Adrian said softly, lifting the heavy chain and placing it around Nora’s neck. His warm fingers brushed against her collarbone, sending a sudden jolt of electricity through her entire body.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "You are not hiding in the service corridor anymore, Nora," he whispered. "Tonight is the Annual Harbor Gala. Every syndicate leader in New Jersey and Pennsylvania will be there to test me. Show them who you are."
Nora looked into the mirror.
She didn't see a maid in a black apron anymore. She saw a woman with glowing skin, regal curves, wearing black diamonds, standing in front of a man who looked ready to burn the world down just to keep her safe.
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"I'm ready, Adrian," she said softly, using his first name for the very first time.
A dark, dangerous smile touched Adrian’s lips. "Good. Let's go show them our war."
