Welcome To Hell, Dear Wife-Chapter 52: Time to Party

A black sedan rolled to a stop in front of a building that looked more like a museum than a shop, and Mira pressed her face closer to the tinted window.

She squinted at the gold lettering on the glass doors while noting the two attendants in crisp black suits that stood in front like this was a bank vault and not a clothing store.

Madison Elira.

Her jaw almost dropped.

This was one of THE places, the kind of boutique that dressed celebrities for red carpets and award shows.

"A boutique?" She turned to Callis, audibly confused. "Why are we here?"

Honestly, she had so much on her mind than to shop, but Callis was already unbuckling her seatbelt with a small smile on her lips.

"Because comebacks don’t happen in sweatpants."

Before Mira could even ask what she meant, Callis had stepped out of the car with the kind of confidence that made people move out of her way without being asked.

Ugh! Great. Just great!

I just wanna sleep and dwell on my mental health rather than this.

Mira climbed out reluctantly as she immediately felt exposed under the afternoon sun. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The two attendants at the door noticed her immediately.

"Lorena?" one of them whispered.

The other one snickered. "I thought they said she tried to kill herself again and succeeded this time."

Mira forced her legs to move and followed Callis through the towering glass doors as they both ignored the two people standing guard.

The interior made her feel like she’d walked into a cathedral with crystal chandeliers hanging from the impossibly high ceilings.

Mirrors were everywhere, reflecting so many versions of herself. Racks of dresses that looked like art installations lined the walls, and Mira could not help but wonder how much they cost.

And everyone was staring.

Every employee, every other customer, every person in the building had stopped what they were doing just to watch them walk in.

"I can’t really do this right now, Callis. Everyone’s literally staring," Mira whispered, even though she kept her eyes forward.

Callis didn’t even bother glancing around. "Of course they are. It’s Callis Grace and Lorena Sanders. And you were their favorite spectacle."

She paused before continuing, "Still are."

"I don’t remember telling you that I miss the attention, Callis."

A woman in a perfectly tailored suit approached them with a smile stretched so tight that it looked painful.

"Miss Callis! What a pleasure!" Her eyes then slid to Mira, and the smile stretched even more. "And... Miss Sanders."

The way she said her name made it sound like a disease.

Callis stepped forward, and her presence somehow made the much taller manager take a step back. "I need your best evening collection for my friend here. Something unforgettable. Something the cameras won’t stop talking about."

A stylist who looked senior and had been hovering nearby looked nervous. "For... Miss Sanders?"

Callis’ voice dropped but came out sharp. "It’s Mrs. Atkins now. And do you have a problem with that?"

The stylist went pale. "Uhm... no, of course not. For what occasion?"

"For resurrection."

The staff exchanged nervous glances but immediately scattered to fetch dresses.

Mira had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing. Seeing Callis always defend her like this felt good. Good, but weird.

The fitting room they led them into was enormous and lined with mirrors that showed her from every possible angle.

A stylist pressed a champagne flute into her hands with a smile that she thought was soothing but wasn’t to Mira.

"You can relax, Miss."

She used the same tone that people used with unstable people who might snap at any moment.

The parade of dresses started immediately.

The first one was a tight silver gown with a thigh-high slit that made her look like a disco ball had just exploded.

Mira stepped out of the dressing room while pulling at the fabric that clung to her every curve. "I can’t even breathe in this."

Callis looked her up and down with a critical eye. "Then don’t. You can breathe later. Just walk first."

"Yeah right. Easy for you to say when the zipper isn’t cutting your spine."

Callis laughed at that, really laughed, a genuine sound that made some of the tension drain from Mira’s shoulders.

"You’re so dramatic, Lorena."

Next was a black silk piece that slit up to her thigh but made her look like she was attending a funeral.

Callis immediately confirmed her thoughts. "You look like you’re mourning yourself."

"Maybe I am," Mira muttered before heading back to change.

The dresses kept coming. One too short. One with sheer panels that left nothing to the imagination. One covered in sequins that scratched her arms like tiny leaves.

She changed again and again while Callis critiqued every single one like a fashion show judge.

"Too desperate."

"Too apologetic."

Too this. Too that.

Each comment kept hitting like a mirror reflecting how the world had always seen Mira in her past life, always too much or just never enough.

Then a junior stylist finally brought out a crimson mini dress that made Mira’s eyes go wide.

It was silk, backless, and so short that it might as well have been a long shirt.

"There it is," Callis said quietly, like she’d been waiting for this exact one.

"You’ve got to be shitting me. That’s not a dress, Callis." Mira stared at it in horror. "That’s public indecency."

Callis grinned. "Exactly. Every sinner needs a costume."

"Callis, this is—"

"Perfect, right? I know too. Go try it."

Mira sighed before changing reluctantly, already feeling like this was a terrible idea. When she stepped out of the dressing room, the entire boutique went quiet.

Even the stylists who had been whispering about her stopped mid-sentence.

The red dress clung to her body like it had been painted on her. It hugged every curve and left her back completely bare. The hem itself barely covered her thighs, while the neckline plunged deep enough to be scandalous.

Callis circled her slowly as she studied her from every angle like she was carrying a sculpture.

"Now this... this makes noise."

"Oh please! It barely even makes coverage," Mira retorted while tugging at the hem uselessly.

"Who cares about coverage? That’s for apologies, and you’re not apologizing tonight. You’ve done enough of that. This would pass the message that you don’t care."

Mira stared at her reflection in the wall of mirrors. She looked like someone who ate scandals for breakfast and then laughed at the consequences.

"Yeah right, it will definitely pass the message that I’ve lost my darn mind."

But Callis couldn’t care less. The next thing Mira knew, she was paying for the dress, and they were driving somewhere else.

A huge salon.

And this was even worse than the boutique.

Mira sat in a leather chair while surrounded by more mirrors as the stylists buzzed around her like bees.

Curling her hair, brushing makeup on her face, while debating which lipstick shades they were going to use like it was code.

"She’s so pretty up close," someone whispered behind her. "It’s a shame that she’s a psychopath."

Mira heard every word but kept her face blank like she didn’t. Even she was impressed at how she was getting good at that.

Callis, on the other hand, sat nearby doing her own hair too while scrolling through her phone.

"You’re enjoying this so much, aren’t you?" Mira asked with an eye roll.

"Watching a rebirth?" Callis didn’t even look up from her phone. "So exhilarating."

When the stylists finally finished, Mira barely recognized the woman in the mirror. Her hair fell in soft waves that looked effortless even though it took lots of hours.

Her lips were painted dark red like blood, while her eyes looked fierce and unfamiliar due to the dramatic makeup.

"There she is," Callis said softly.

"Who?" Mira asked absentmindedly.

"Lorena Sanders."

Night had fallen by the time they got back in the car after dressing up and doing many more touch-ups.

The city glowed outside the windows while Mira played with the hem of her dress nervously, obviously very aware of how much leg she was showing.

"You still haven’t told me what we’re doing or where we’re going."

Callis crossed her legs smoothly while looking perfectly comfortable in her own dark dress. "To where all the wolves gather when the moon’s not full."

Mira almost rolled her eyes.

These darn people and their parables. Lucas does the exact same thing.

Callis seemed to see that she didn’t get it, so she smiled. "A party."

"A party? What kind of party?"

"You know, you act like you’re not used to this life." Callis turned to look at her.

"Now I believe the rumors that say you never socialize, which is weird for an actress and probably why you didn’t have anyone by your side when things went south. You need to learn how to make friends that stick even when you fall. So you need this party where every handshake costs a soul."

I don’t think I have one left to sell though, Mira thought.

The car finally slowed in front of an unmarked skyscraper that looked like it housed either billionaires or supervillains.

Men in black suits stood guard at the entrance, their faces blank and intimidating.

Mira’s pulse spiked while Callis leaned closer to her.

"Time to party, Mrs. Atkins."