Page 121 of Bene

Good point.

“The red lace set certainly has an extra—”

“White. It needs to be the white one.”

The seamstress who had been called to Mario’s home to do a fitting for Vanna’s wedding dress and brought along a half a dozen sets of lingerie for her to pick through to wear under the gown, met her gaze in the mirror. It was as though she was waiting to hear Vanna’s opinion on the items she wanted to wear for her wedding day, but it wouldn’t work like that.

“Why not pick something a little different for under the dress? Like a … surprise,” the seamstress suggested. “That’s what most women do.”

“Vanna isn’t most women, and she will be my wife, and since I will be the only man who gets to see what she’s wearing under her dress, shouldn’t I get the choice of what I want to remove from her body the night of our wedding?”

“Mario,” Vanna muttered.

Not that her warning would do any good.

It was clear the woman helping Vanna try on the items wasn’t comfortable. And to be fair, this wasn’t the first set of comments—lewd, or otherwise—that Mario made while she was having her fitting. Undoubtedly the most unprofessional fitting the seamstress ever had to do, and Vanna felt bad for her because of it, too.

“What?” he demanded.

“The dress is white, Mario.”

“I know, I’ve seen it.”

Of course.

Because she couldn’t even pick her wedding dress alone. Mario had to be there to do that, as well. Lest she pick out something that might make him look bad in front of the parish, and priest because apparently she didn’t know how to act.

All of it … entirely ridiculous.

Vanna knew better than to cause an issue over it, though.

“Although …” Mario said, tipping his head sideways, his reflection in the large mirror showing off the action from where he stood in the bedroom doorway. Even her fittings weren’t private, and since he kept such a strong hold of control over her now, it had to be done in his home because he didn’t trust her to do it outside of his view. “That red set does very nice things for your ass, Van.”

The girl—Courtney, was her name—cleared her throat. Otherwise, she said nothing even as Vanna stared hard at Mario in the mirror, clearly unimpressed with his behavior, and not trying to hide it at all. Not that it mattered.

She hadn’t been hiding anything, lately.

She was unhappy.

He would be, too.

Vanna made him a promise, after all.

“Pick the white,” Mario demanded.

“Fine.”

He chuckled, taking a few steps into the room to come and stand alongside the bed. Fingering the sexy lace items on the bed, Vanna felt her stomach start to twist and turn at the sight. The heavy realization that she would be wearing those things for him coming to rest on her chest like a weight that just refused to be moved.

God.

She could barely breathe.

In a month—just thirty days from today—she would be married to Mario, and his to do with what he wanted. Including ripping all this lace from her body to use it as he wanted, and she wouldn’t get a say.

For a while, she had done well to ignore it, but now as the wedding drew closer with every passing day, she could no longer pretend like this wasn’t happening. As if this wasn’t her reality, and her new life wasn’t waiting right around the corner.

Mario picked up another item from the bed, holding it high and grinning salaciously at her from the end of the bed when he said, “White for the wedding night, but we’ll be taking the rest of these sets to enjoy, as well.”