ADIRA

Standing in a room filled with criminals had rattled me, I won’t lie, but when I likened them to the wizened old farts I have to deal with constantly at the office, the tension eased. Well, except Mrs. Harper. I love Mrs. Harper; she’s a sweet old woman.

As the familiar feeling of authority covered me like a warm blanket, I hate to admit it, but I actually enjoyed discussing our plans. And now, I’m weirdly giddy about seeing them come to fruition, almost like when Penny and I used to steal sweets from my mother’s room when we were younger. We’d run and hide, our little hearts racing with excitement, not because we’d succeeded, but because doing something naughty and not getting caught felt exhilarating.

The crippling fear of being caught is still there, of course, but it’s balanced by the thrill bubbling up inside me. Not that I’d ever tell Andronikos. His ego is big enough already and doesn’t need more inflation.

We drove in silence to Andronikos’ penthouse. It was already evening and I was exhausted. Today had been filled with meetings and my throat could use a break. When we get to Andronikos’ house, my first priority would be finding some warm water and honey to soothe it. Surely, there’s honey hidden somewhere in that fancy apartment of his. He might be a demon but I doubt he’s taste buds are that bitter.

He loves Greek yoghurt, my brain supplied. Eww. Okay maybe he doesn’t have honey.

I was about to make clarifications concerning the honey situation, when his phone buzzed and he answered an incoming call. Switching seamlessly into fluent Greek, he began speaking to someone—his mother, from what I could pick up.

Hmm, so the demon came out of a vagina after all? Who’d have thought.

“Den écho synodó, Mamá. Den boró na értho.”

(I don’t have a date, Mama. I can’t come.)

A date? What does he need that for? A spike of unwanted jealousy shot through me at the thought of him with another woman. I hate feeling like this. Andronikos kept talking, his tone shifting between resignation and frustration, before sighing heavily.

“Kalá, mamá. Ta léme ekeí.”

(Alright, Mama. See you there.)

Dropping his phone onto the seat, he rubbed his temple in exasperation before turning to face me.

“I know you probably picked up some of that conversation,” he began, his voice laced with reluctant irritation. “And normally, I wouldn’t ask this, but would you come to the gala with me as my plus one?”

I blinked, stunned. He was asking me?!

“Yes!”

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. Mine did to. That was too quick. I should have played it cool. Bad job, Adira, I thought with a grimace.

“That was quick,” he remarked, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. The dumbass just had to rub it in. I mean, I was driven by jealously. It could’ve happened to anyone. “I’ll have a dress sent over along with any accessories you’ll need.”

“Sure,” I replied, still feeling embarrassed by my abrupt reply to his earlier question.

A few moments later, we arrived at his penthouse. He ignored me and disappeared into his room, presumably to freshen up. As I headed towards my room to do the same, a knock at the door interrupted me.

One of the guards stationed in the apartment answered and handed me a package.

“Your items have arrived ma’am.” The burly man said, his eyes fixed on the floor like the tiles held state secrets. Weird.

Surprised they arrived so quickly, I wondered what Andronikos had gotten for me this time. Thanking the guard, I clutched the package and rushed upstairs, eager to see the gown. The girly girl in me was practically screaming at the opportunity to play dress up.

When I opened the box, I gasped. Tucked within folds of delicate tissue paper was one of the most beautiful gowns I’d ever seen. It was a metallic rose-gold dress that shimmered softly under the lights of my room. The gown had a structured bodice with a sweet heart neckline and off-the-shoulder straps that would drape elegantly over my arms. The bodice featured intricate pleats designed to accentuate my waist, hugging my curves in all the right place before flowing into a floor-length skirt.

The dress looked like liquid satin, its sheen shifting with the light, giving it an otherworldly feel. My eyes trailed down to the high slit on the left side of the gown—sultry and bold, yet balanced by the gown’s otherwise regal silhouette. It was the perfect mix of grace and allure, and I couldn’t help but wonder, once again, how that man was able to find something so… me in the span of twenty minutes or even less.

Rummaging through the box, I found a pair of delicate rose-gold heels with a touch of glitter on them. Beside the beautiful shoes, nestled in an ornate transparent box were matching earrings—simple gold butterfly studs that didn’t compete with the gown’s brilliance.

After my perusal, I stood there for a moment, holding the gown to my chest. I felt a strange mix of emotions. Excitement, certainly. A bit of nervousness, here and there. But mostly, a sense of gratitude. Despite being a demon most of the time, Andronikos seemed to see me in a way most people usually don’t.

I didn’t even need to try out the dress or shoes cause I was sure he’d gotten my size right and I wasn’t going to dwell too much on how he knew my size.

“Alright, Adira,” I whispered to myself. “You’ve dealt with boardrooms and a definitely, clinically insane crime lord. You can handle a gala.”

Even if the thought of standing by Andronikos’ side at the said gala made my heart race just a little too fast.

When I was done with my shower, I walked into my room, only to be greeted by a group of people.

“Umm… What are you doing here?” I asked, feeling irritated at the sudden invasion of my privacy.

One of them, an effeminate man with an energy that only be described as extra, ran excitedly toward me. “Darling, we’re here to glam you up!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers dramatically in front of my face with every word.

Okayyy. Definitely on crack.

Before I could respond, he grabbed my hand and dragged me to the seat in front of the vanity. “That handsome piece of meat you’re living with told us to make you look presentable,” he said, his voice dripping with mock offense. “but you know what? We’re going to make you look drop-dead gorgeous, hot, ravishing,” he continued with dramatic flair before leaning in to mock whisper in my ear, “and absolutely eatable.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that. His quirkiness was infectious, and despite myself, I was beginning to anticipate the process.

Smiling, he turned to the rest of his team. “Alright, let’s move people,” he clapped his hands to get their attention.

What followed was a flurry of movement. Brushes, sprays, pins—everything moved in a blur around me. When the team was finally done with me, I stared at my reflection, stunned.

I looked more beautiful than I ever imagined. My wild curls had been tamed into a stunning updo—a high, voluminous bun with each curl carefully pinned in place to create a soft yet elegant look. A few loose tendrils, framed my face in delicate spirals. The hair, the dress, everything felt overwhelming and magical.

I looked like a goddess.

“Yes, you do,” the man—who later introduced himself as Eric—said proudly, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

Oops, guess I said that out loud.

“Almost forgot!” he suddenly exclaimed, dashing away before returning with a box.

While he was gone, I slipped on a delicate bracelet with subtle rose-gold and diamond accents. Eric returned and fastened a thin diamond pendant necklace around my neck. It gleamed softly, completing my look.

“Your man said you should wear this,” he said with a wink. I didn’t bother correcting him.

“And now… you’re ready.” he declared, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

I got up, wore my heels and spritzed a light perfume on my pulse points. “Thank you, Eric,” I said, turning to him and holding his hand.

“If you really want to thank me, honey,” he said with a sassy shimmy, “you better knock that man off his rocks with this look.” I laughed, shaking my head at his ridiculousness.

Andronikos has no idea what’s about to hit him.