Grace's POV
The dress cost more than Grace's first apartment.
She stood in front of the mirror and barely recognized herself. The black gown was simple and expensive and made her look like someone who belonged in the world of powerful men. Her hair was styled. Her makeup was perfect. She looked like someone who'd always known how to navigate this life instead of someone who'd stumbled into it six weeks ago.
Vincent knocked on her door at exactly 7 PM.
He was dressed in a suit that probably cost more than her car had. He looked smaller than he had been when she first arrived at the penthouse but there was something in his expression that was sharper. Like the cancer was burning away everything that wasn't essential and leaving behind only the core of who he really was.
"You look beautiful," he said.
"Thank you."
"Are you ready for tonight?"
