ELORA

“Yes, sir,” the woman smiled, eyes lighting up.

I sat in front of the mirror and watched him sit and cross his legs over, watching the hairdresser closely.

What manner of man was he?

By the time they were done, I barely recognized myself in the mirror. My black hair parted on the left, with a soft, elegant wave cascading over one eye, ending in thick curls just below my shoulders. My lips were glossed a rich nude, lashes dark and long.

Rowen stepped behind me and looked at my reflection. “Now you look like someone they won’t dare underestimate.”

I felt it too. The dress. The hair. The...