Millicent
I stood in front of my bedroom mirror for the fifth time, tugging at the neckline of my dress. The blue number had cost me a week's salary, but I needed armor tonight. After three weeks of working for Abel, three weeks of fighting this ridiculous mate bond, three weeks of pretending his casual touches didn't make me want to combust, I needed something to make me feel in control.
The dress hugged in all the right places, professional enough for a business function but stunning enough to remind myself I was more than just an efficient assistant. More than just an omega trying to keep her head down and do her job. The deep sapphire color made my eyes pop, and I'd actually bothered with makeup tonight. If I was going to survive an evening of Seattle's business elite judging Abel's
