TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 11

CHAPTER 10: THE FIVE–MINUTE DARE–1

EMBER’S POV

The stylist team moves like a precision strike squad. In less than five seconds, my plate is cleared, a measuring tape is around my waist, and I’m in the grip of Simone, who radiates such withering beta energy I think even Knox would hesitate to cross her.

“Don’t slouch,” Simone snaps, fingers already in my hair. “Posture makes the woman.”

I stand at rigid attention while another woman circles me, jotting numbers. Two men focus on the rolling racks, pulling out garment bags with reverence.

Knox fires off emails on his phone, then heads to the balcony with his coffee, leaving me to the professionals.

“Can we acknowledge how tragic this is?” Simone gestures at me still wearing Knox’s oversized shirt. “You literally fled your marriage with nothing but the clothes on your back. Which means we’re building your entire wardrobe from scratch.”

She pulls out her phone, typing rapidly. “Emergency shopping list. Basics, statement pieces, enough options to get you through the next week without repeating a single look.”

“Is that really necessary?” I ask.

Simone looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You’re the Lycan King’s girlfriend now. Yes, it’s necessary. Your old life dressed you in invisible beige. Your new life? Oh darling, you’re going to burn retinas.”

She steers me toward a ring light. “Let’s talk colors.”

She studies my face, turning my chin. “Brown eyes with amber flecks. Olive undertones. And this hair-” She lifts a strand. “Long and unlayered. Let me guess, your miserable ex–husband loved them this way?”

I nod.

“Thought so.” Simone’s nostrils flare. “We’re doing blunt ends, micro–layers to frame your face. Dangerous librarian meets heiress in hiding. We’re creating the sexiest doe–eyed.

woman ever.”

Next comes measuring. I’m stripped down to nothing while three sets of hands wrap, pinch, and jot notes. It should be mortifying but somehow it’s clinical, professional.

“She’s a 36D,” the male assistant says reverently.

“Obviously. Size two waist but hips for days.” Simone doesn’t look up. “Everything needs

CHAPTER TO THE FIVE–MINUTE DARE–1

tailoring.”

*25 Points

The tan woman checks my legs. “God, these legs are fucking sexy. Do you ever show them

off?”

“Not for you.” Simone’s tone softens. “The goal is to make you impossible to ignore.”

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