ZYou stood before the mirror as Matteo adjusted your corset, a soft groan escaping your lips. Catching your discomfort through the mirror’s reflection, Matteo glanced at you with concern.* “Too tight?” He inquired, his hands gliding over your waist as you leaned into his touch.

“No, it’s perfect,” You murmured, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks as you met his gaze in the mirror. His smirk only deepened as he admired you.

“Fits like a glove,” Matteo remarked, his lips grazing against your hair before trailing down to your neck. “I can’t wait to get you out of this dress when you return from the gala,” He added, his smirk widening mischievously.