“If you neglect it, you’ll suffer the consequences!”

The shrill voice cut through the air like a polished dagger. It came from a petite, round-faced woman standing with her chin lifted as if the room was too humble to deserve her breath. She was Violet Bento’s assistant, the infamous fashion terror in designer circles who acted as if she were royalty by proxy.

The boutique, a high-end, vintage-modern fusion atelier nestled in the heart of downtown Boston, fell into a hush. ...