*Roanne’s POV*

The elegant suit composed by a pencil skirt and a very silky blouse, hung there, like a second skin, its emerald green hue a promise of lush secrets unfolding beneath. Intricate lace adorned its length, the threadwork an ode to the delicate dance that awaited me at The Velvet Room. Lizzie's deft fingers brushed against my skin as she helped me slip into the silkiness, her presence both comforting and conspiratorial.

"Roanne, you look..." Lizzie ...