Chapter 104
[ 486 words ]
Chapter 104:
He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together.
“My team is packing your apartment right now,” Jarrod stated, pulling her toward the door. “Now, Mrs. Romero, it’s time to go meet the family that wants to eat us alive.”
They walked into the elevator. The doors slid shut.
The elevator doors slid shut, sealing her fate. Ten minutes later, the black armored SUV rolled smoothly through the dark, cold streets of Washington.
The heavy vehicle did not head directly toward the Romero estate. Instead, K.C. Bell pulled the SUV to a stop along a quiet, tree-lined street in Georgetown.
Dі𝘴𝖼o𝘃е𝗋 n𝖾𝗐 ѕt𝗈𝘳𝗂e𝗌 𝗼n 𝗴𝗮𝘭𝗇𝘰𝗏𝖾𝘭s.𝘤𝘰𝗺
Caroline looked out the tinted window. Her stomach tightened. She recognized the discreet, ultra-luxurious storefront of the Georgetown Couture Studio. They had been here days ago, but the gown and necklace had already been packed and placed in the vehicle. There was no reason to return.
Jarrod pushed his heavy door open. The freezing night wind caught the hem of his black wool overcoat. He stepped out onto the brick pavement, turned around, and held his large, warm hand out to her.
Caroline stared at his palm. She placed her cold fingers into his grip. “Why are we back here? The gown is already in the trunk.”
“Minor adjustments,” Jarrod said, his tone offering no further explanation. He led her toward the low-profile black wooden door.
Linda Powell, the studio owner, was already waiting inside the dimly lit foyer. The moment she saw Jarrod, she rushed forward, her hands clasped together in eager submission.
“Everything is perfectly ready, Colonel,” Linda said, bowing her head slightly. “The seamstress finished the alterations an hour ago. I had my assistant bring the gown back from the vault.”
Linda guided them up the curved mahogany staircase to a massive, private fitting room on the second floor. In the exact center of the room, illuminated by a single spotlight, stood a mannequin. Draped over it was the breathtaking midnight-blue velvet gown, freshly pressed, the hem and waistline adjusted to the precise measurements they had taken during the first fitting.
Caroline stared at the heavy fabric. Her breathing hitched. A physical weight pressed down on her chest. This was not just a dress. It was the armor she was expected to wear into a warzone, now refined to fit her perfectly.
Jarrod released her hand and looked down at her, his gray eyes dark and absolute.
“Try it on,” Jarrod commanded. His voice left zero room for negotiation. “I want to see the final fit. I’ll wait here.”
Caroline swallowed the dry lump in her throat and followed Linda’s assistant behind a massive, curved velvet curtain. The process of stripping away her comfortable street clothes and stepping back into the heavy, restrictive gown felt like shedding her old identity all over again. This time, the fabric hugged her with unnerving precision, every seam aligned flawlessly with her body.
Ten minutes later, the assistant stepped out. The heavy velvet curtain was slowly pulled back.
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