Chapter 25

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The general dress code, while not explicitly stated, for the debutante ball is white. It's meant to show the girls innocence and virginity. It's a tradition that dates back centuries and I know that the other girls will follow suit.

But red is the official color of my family. It decorates our coat of arms and every office business is conducted in. That's why my gown for tonight is deep crimson.

Those who know, know. And those who don't, don't.

My mom warned me that there will likely be people who knew both Maria and Rosa in attendance. Old classmates and whatnot. They're not people who know the nature of our family business but they very well might recognize me. And she gave me one piece of advice.

Play dumb.

Brush off whatever comment they make. Insist that my last name is Ricci, not DiSilva. Emphasize the fact that my mothers name is Victoria, not Maria. And that I've never met someone named Rosalina.

She said this will be good practice in case I do end up taking over for my father. To fine tune my skills when it comes to lying and making small talk. To work on reading a room, reading people, and how to use it to my advantage.

She also sent a large wooden box; it arrived this morning. I know what's inside, I'm not stupid, but I don't really want to open it yet. I also don't really want to wear it.

La principessa più anziana crown. It's part of my family's lore. Every woman in the family has a set of jewelry, accompanied by a crown, to showcase our place in the family. They get smaller the further you get from Regina, each of my sisters is smaller than the last, but prove as a symbol of our status.
(The eldest princess)

Hannah's been giving me the cold shoulder, even now as I get ready. I can't tell if she's still upset about Duke or if it's because she wasn't invited to the ball. Either way, her passive aggressive shit is getting annoying.

I finish my hair with a quick burst of hairspray before walking away from the vanity. I grab my thigh holster and slip my knife inside. As I unzip the garment bag, there's a knock on the door.

Hannah swings the door open before I can even turn around, "hey, Ryan."

"Hey," he strides right into the room. I don't bother to cover myself, he's seen it plenty of times before. I carefully take the gown off its hanger and step into it.

The dress laces up in the back, a task I can't tackle myself. Without a word, Ryan steps behind me and laces it up.

"Ow, fuck," I mutter when he tugs particularly hard.

"Mi dispiace," he mumbles an apology before loosening it a bit.

"Open the box yet?" Ryan asks as he ties the satin ribbons together.

"No," I reply simply. "I don't want to wear it."

"You know you have to," he reminds me.

I turn to look at him and roll my eyes, "it weighs like three pounds."

"Fucking brat," he scoffs, grabbing the box off my bed. "Just put the damned thing on."

"I'm not a brat," I huff, even as I take the necklace and earrings from the set.

"I'm holding like ten million dollars in my hands right now," he deadpans. "And you're complaining about wearing it."

"Shut up," I grab my heels and slip them on.

Hannah has resumed her post on her bed. She sits cross legged with a frown and a book in her hand. I know she's not reading though, she hasn't turned the page since Ryan came in, she's eavesdropping.

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