One day, Ethan teased me about not having a single dress suitable for the prom and said “Ah! I forgot you’re not like other girls! You’re special!”

To that, my answer was a small uncomfortable smile because I did not have the guts to tell him that, despite having a wealthy family, I was practically poor. My allowance barely kept me alive to the end of the month. I did not have much to spend on dresses despite being obsessed with them. So instead of hurting my dignity, I let him believe that I was a pick me girl.

For the prom, I borrowed one of my cousin’s dresses. But she caught me at the door and humiliated me yelling, “How dare a dirty mouse like you ruin my clothes!”. So Grandmother punished me for stealing. She hit me so much that, let alone going to the prom, I wasn’t able to get out of bed.  

And here I am today, wearing a Chanel tweed dress.

I would have never dreamed of that.

I looked at myself in the mirror of the changing room, barely believing what I was seeing.

“You look fabulous, madam,” the shop assistant told me, “The master will like it for sure!"

Thanks to her I recalled that I was a doll for that crazy man to dress. 

I went out to find Mister Du Vin sitting on the couch in front of the changing room. Next to him, Sam was standing up waiting for any orders. The scene made me nauseous.

“Turn around,” Mister Du Vin ordered me.

I gave him a 360 angle view of the dress. “Not bad,” he finally said not so pleased, “But I dislike the colour. Please miss, get her all the other colours. Let’s see what suits her the best.”

I ended up trying three. “None of them stood out,” he concluded.

“Well, I like them!” I said, “They are elegant and feminine!”

“I still dislike this. We will look for something else," he responded and stood up from his chair leaving the shop.

I sighed in anger, which made him smile. And I was surprised to see Sam walking behind us holding three boxes.

“Wait! Sir! Didn’t you say you disliked them?!” I exclaimed.

“I did not dislike the dresses. I disliked what I saw,” he responded with all the sassiness in the world!

If I end up putting salt in my boss's morning coffee, would I be coming with a new way to beg for death ?

"Sam, let me help you," I offered.

"That's very kind of you, miss. But I am okay. They are not heavy," Sam replied gently.

Receiving such assistance felt strange to me. Over the last three years, I had taken on various jobs, from being a waitress to even working as a maid. I had endured worse. Consequently, I deeply felt unworthy of such pampering.

"It's alright, Ella," Mister Du Vin told me with a smirk. "I will let you carry the next."

"Are we gonna buy more?!" I questioned.

Mister Du Vin looked at me as if I was committing blasphemy, "More?! We haven't started yet!!"

A scream of surprise got out of my mouth, "How?!"

Next, we went to Louis Vuitton. Mister Du Vin thought that I needed some new handbags. Then to Dior. He said that my shoes looked pathetic. Long story short, I ended up with a brand new wardrobe!

"But, sir, isn't that too much?" I asked him.

"No, doll," he responded, glancing at his Rolex. "You will be seen next to me most of the time; I need you to be elegant and sophisticated."

"Still, isn't that too much for elegant and sophisticated?"

"Not in my circle, baby doll, not in my circle."

It was midday when Mister DuVin decided that we had enough clothes and accessories for a respectful assistant. And I realised that I got involved with a crazy rich man. He spent like he had all the money in the world! I looked at the many bags Sam put in the car and realised that if I had half of their price, I wouldn’t have done what I did two years ago.

“Ella, get in the car,” fortunately Mister Du Vin’s voice got me back to reality. “We have a business launch in Laplaza. Don’t worry, you just need to say hello and remain silent by my side.”

“I know, sir.” I responded, “Don’t worry, I know my job.”

Raven smiled at me then looked in my eyes, “I trust that, Ella.”

His eyes almost made me lose consciousness. That colour was something heavenly. I think they were even prettier than Ethan's eyes. 

The restaurant we went to matched the extravagance of the ambiance I was in for the whole morning. The restaurant's entrance was a grand affair, with ornate double doors that opened into a foyer adorned with crystal chandeliers. A host in a tailored tuxedo welcomed them with a warm smile and led them through a corridor lined with flickering candles, casting a soft, romantic glow.

“Goodness me,” I didn’t help the astonishment. The main dining area revealed itself in all its splendour. 

“Hello, Mister Du Vin,” the butler welcomed us, “Mister Martini is waiting for you.”

We went deeper inside to the private cabins. I think they gave us the best cabin they have. A grand piano graced one corner of the room. The walls were adorned with original artworks, and a gallery of fine wines stood proudly, showcasing an impressive selection from around the world.

In the middle of the room Mister Martini was sitting. The moment he saw my boss he stood up to welcome him. “Raven! mio amico!” Mister Martini stood at an average height, but his presence made him seem taller. His frame, while no longer youthful, was still robust, hinting at a life of both physical and mental resilience. His tailored suits were impeccable, a testament to his attention to detail. 

“He is probably a mafia boss too,” I thought. And I did not help a shiver.

“Hello, dear old friend. This is my assistant Ella. She will share dinner with us,” Raven put his hand on my shoulder to introduce me. His hand was big and cold, yet it made my discomfort go away.

“What a graceful young lady,” Mister Martini took my hand and kissed it softly and respectfully. Maybe he is a good gentleman and that I have just misjudged him?

Raven pulled out the chair for me. I was surprised at his manners and the gentle way he was treating me, since he spent the whole morning either threatening me or teasing me.

“Look at this gentleman you've become sir!" I whispered to him teasingly as I sat down.

“Shut up, Ella,” he responded with a smile. And I barely calmed a laugh.

“I have a granddaughter just your age, miss Ella,” Mister Martini said, “she is a brilliant law student... Miss Grace, try the marinated mozzarella! It may look strange but it is quite tasty and good for your health! So I was telling you about my granddaughter!"

“I bet you are so proud of her.” I replied as I raised the fork to start tasting the entrée.

“Well, sometimes I think I spoiled her a bit too much, given the death of her parents. But you never over spoil a girl. Do you? Granddaughters are meant to be spoiled.”

He looked so sweet, turning into a loving grandfather. I surely misjudged him. I remembered my evil grandmother and I wished to be his. How can life go wrong when a loving family has you back? 

And I was immerging in self pity, my thoughts were cut short as I saw a bullet get placed in the heart of the sweet italian grandfather.

The waiter just shot Mister Martini dead.