Page 57 of Theirs to Corrupt

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Page 57 of Theirs to Corrupt

Between yesterday and today, I have no modesty left.

First I try on a slinky sheath that makes me feel like a 1920s starlet. Link and Pax both shake their heads.

Though I always pictured myself in a ballgown, the one that I am laced into overpowers me.

“You look like you’re drowning,” Link observes when I step onto the platform in front of him.

“Like I’m…?”

“Drowning,” he repeats himself. “A slow, painful, suffocating death.”

“That’s descriptive,” Pax muses.

“Well, it feels like it, too.” I can’t help myself. I laugh. How long has it been since I did that? “I hate it.”

“Thank God,” Pax says. “I was trying to think of something polite to say.”

Both men grin.

In that moment, there’s an easy intimacy between the three of us that rocks me.

What if we’d met under different circumstances? And what if this was real?

Forcing myself back to reality, I pick up the hem and hurry back to the dressing room.

Next comes a daring backless number that also plunges in the front, making both Link and Pax’s eyes darken with desire.

“As much as I love you in it, I will not have other men looking at you.”

I start to ask if he’s serious, but the expression in his eyes says he’ll kill anyone who looks at me sideways.

“I have the perfect selection,” Eloise tells me, sweeping into the dressing room with another gown.

She holds it up in front of me, and my breath vanishes at the sight of the crepe sheath with a stunning, square neckline. There’s also a fantastic big bow right below the base of my spine.

“What do you think?”

“I love it.” And I hope it’s flattering so I can stop shopping.

She helps me, while her assistant arranges the back of the dress.

I’ve lost far too much weight to have any curves, but the gorgeous fabric flows over my body. But because the garment nips in at the waist, I have the illusion of a feminine shape.

“Let’s try the sandals.”

Both women help me balance while I slip into the beautiful silver heels with rhinestones on them.

Then Eloise steps back, but not before I see her nod and smile.

I study my reflection.

A small train adds a touch of drama, and as I turn, I catch sight of the exquisite detail on the back—a row of tiny buttons starting at the base of my spine and running down the length of the gown. But that beautiful bow adds a romantic flourish. Though the back is open, the dress still feels modest.

“Tout simplement magnifique.”Eloise smiles. “Simply magnificent.”

Emotion threatens to overwhelm me.

I wish my mom were here to see this, to help me choose, to cry happy tears and fuss over every detail. I can almost hear her voice, telling me how beautiful I look. And Samantha, my bestfriend from what feels like a lifetime ago… She should be here too, gushing over the dress, planning my bachelorette party, and cracking jokes about my honeymoon.




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