Gianna stood before the full-length mirror in her dressing room, meticulously checking every detail of her ensemble for the upcoming dinner at the Beckett mansion.
The dress she had chosen was one of elegance—modest enough to satisfy the conservative sensibilities of a traditional family dinner, yet devastatingly beautiful. It was a fluid, emerald-green silk column dress that draped stylishly past her knees, featuring a modest neckline that completely covered her collarbones.
However, the tailored silhouette hugged her curves with lethal precision, and the back dipped just low enough to expose a tasteful expanse of smooth skin. It was subtle, sophisticated, and possessed a mildly intoxicating edge—just enough to make any man look twice, if not three times, without ever appearing as if she were trying.
