XXXVI · DIMITRI

Dimitri Delacroix's point of view

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RIGHT WHEN I FINISHED GETTING READY for the ball, after I purposely took all the time in the world to get dressed and get my hair done, I heard a knock on the door and thinking it was my mother, I opened right away. "Mom, I'll go down in a…" I stopped abruptly, seeing who was it.

She was using high heels, so it was easier to look at her beautiful face, at those charming eyes of hers. And of course, probably because of my mom and her dad's schemes to put together both of our houses colors, while I was in black and gold, she was in red and white. In a dress that didn't leave much for my imagination, especially with that sensual cut on the chest.

I felt my face hot. Am I blushing? "Isabelle? What are you doing here?"

Checking me up from head to toes, she smirked, "You are very…" she gulped. "Outstanding dressed like this," is she complimenting me? Isabelle?