The first delivery arrived just after noon.

I was still in Liam’s house robe, flipping through TV channels like a bored house cat, when the doorbell rang. The housekeeper handed me a sleek, matte black package with my name etched in silver cursive across the top.

Inside the box? A crimson dress–silk, scandalous, sculpted like a second skin. My breath hitched as I lifted it from the folds. It was unapologetically sensual, unmistakably expensive. Liam Black didn’t just pick a dress. He ...