The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

C H A P T E R 7
I
’d been home for all of ten minutes when the
doorbell rang. I walked to the door slowly,
confused, and opened it to find Pierre standing outside
holding a garment bag. He looked handsome in a tuxedo and
stepped forward to hand me the garment bag.
“This is for the party.”
“Are you serious?” I took it in my hands and unzipped it
to find a short black flapper dress full of frills, the kind that
dance with each movement you make.
“I told you it was a Gatsby theme.”
“With masks,” I said, taking out the beautiful, black
feather mask inside the garment bag. There was a short
brunette wig behind it. “And wigs.”
“It’ll be fun.”
“This is dumb.”
“Now you can say you’ve been to one of the princes’
famous parties.”
“Yeah.” I laughed weakly. Except, I had been to one of his
famous parties and I’d slept with him last time, which in
retrospect was probably a mistake on my part.
“Ten minutes,” he said again, as if reminding me I didn’t
have to be there long.