ANA

I rubbed my hands on my skirt, checking my appearance in the mirror, confident I hadn’t forgotten how to look like a mafia princess after my weeks of freedom. Blonde hair blow-dried straight and perfectly coiffed, makeup that accented my cheekbones, but not so much that it detracted from my elegance, my gold nose ring replaced with a simple diamond stud, and a navy-blue dress with three-quarter sleeves that flared out at the waist. My legs were waxed and my—I closed my eyes. Waxing my pussy wasn’t hot, but somehow, Angelo and Valentin made it sexy as fuck to know that I was perfectly bare for them. Because they wanted me to be.