The door slammed open. Their mother swept in like a storm, face taut with stress. "Girls! Girls, enough of this crudeness!"
"Too late," Belle muttered under her breath.
"I don't want to hear it!" Mother Callus snapped. Her eyes swept the room, narrowing at the gowns, the mess, the drunk sisters. "Do you realize tomorrow is the most important day of your lives? You are marrying into power. Into survival. Act like it."
Bianca rolled her eyes. "Power, survival, blah blah blah. Ma, where the fuck is Yuna? She's the only maid who can lace me into this corset without snapping my ribs."
"Yes," Brittany chimed in, sharper. "Where is Yuna? These seamstresses are hopeless. We need her."
Mother Callus stiffened. "Yuna is attending to household duties."
Belle snorted. "Household duties my ass. What's she doing, scrubbing Alessandro's cigar ash? Bring her here."
"She is NOT your servant to command!" their mother snapped.
"She's our maid," Bianca shot back. "And tomorrow she's part of our presentation. You want us looking like trash? Or do you want us looking like Valentini wives? 'Cause if it's the second, we need Yuna, now."
Mother Callus's jaw clenched. "Do not forget your place."
"And don't you forget ours," Brittany said coldly, stepping forward, her voice dripping venom. "If we don't shine tomorrow, if even one of us falters, do you know what Alessandro will do? To us? To you?"
The room went dead silent.
Even the seamstresses stopped breathing.
Mother Callus's face paled, her fury collapsing into something tighter, uglier — fear.
Finally, she hissed through her teeth. "Fine. I will send for Yuna."
Bianca smirked, victorious. "Good girl."
Their mother slapped her across the face so fast the sound cracked through the room.
Bianca's head snapped to the side, hair flying — but she didn't cry, didn't flinch. Instead, she turned back, slowly, eyes blazing. Then she grinned.
"Hit me again, Mama," she whispered. "Matteo likes it rough. Maybe I'll practice tonight."
The seamstresses gasped in horror.
Their mother looked like she might faint.
Belle burst out laughing so hard she nearly spilled her champagne. "Jesus fuck, Bianca, you're insane."
"I'm not insane," Bianca smirked. "I'm ready."
Brittany rubbed her temples, muttering, "God save us all."
The air inside the right chamber grew heavier, hotter, dirtier. Champagne bubbles stuck to the rim of every glass, spilling over onto silk. The seamstresses looked like nuns stuck in a brothel.
And then—
The door scraped.
Yuna stepped inside.
The maid, petite and graceful, in her crisp black-and-white uniform, balancing a tray of needles and pins. She froze the second she saw the battlefield of gowns, champagne stains, and Bianca nursing her cheek with a grin like she'd been kissed, not slapped.
"Finally," Bianca purred. "The only bitch in this house worth a damn."
Yuna lowered her eyes, bowing slightly. "Signorina Bianca… Signorina Belle… Signorina Brittany."
"Cut the formality," Belle said, slapping onto a chair with her corset half-undone. "Get over here and rescue me before this French clown cracks my ribs."
One of the French seamstresses gasped. "Pardon—!"
"Shut up," Bianca snapped, waving her off.
Yuna approached, her hands steady despite the chaos. She began loosening Belle's corset with quiet, precise movements.
"See?" Belle exhaled, relief flooding her chest. "That's why we need her. Girl's got hands like a surgeon."
Bianca smirked. "Or a whore. Either way, useful."
Yuna stiffened but said nothing.
"Oh, don't play innocent," Bianca teased, circling her like a predator. "I've seen the way Matteo looks at you when you pour him wine. Eyes linger too long. Fingers twitch. You think he won't bend you over the table if I tell him you're ripe?"
Yuna's jaw tightened. "I serve this household with loyalty. Nothing more."
"Loyalty?" Belle chuckled, sipping her drink. "To who, exactly? Us? Or the Valentinis? 'Cause trust me, sweetheart, if Alessandro says jump, you won't ask how high. You'll just spread your legs."
Brittany groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Do you two ever shut the fuck up?"
"Nope," Bianca smiled. "Not when the truth tastes this sweet."
She leaned close to Yuna, whispering right against her ear: "Tell me, doll—do you dream about them at night? Or are you already dripping when Dante brushes past you in the hallway?"
Yuna's hand slipped, the corset lacing jerking too tight. Belle hissed.
"Watch it, maid!" Belle snapped, smacking Yuna's hand away. "You trying to suffocate me?"
"I—I apologize," Yuna stammered, cheeks burning.
Bianca laughed so hard she nearly fell over. "Look at her blush! Oh, this is rich. She wants it. She fucking wants it."
Yuna's eyes flashed. For once, she snapped back. "I am not your plaything."
The room froze.
Belle's jaw dropped. Brittany's eyes widened. Bianca tilted her head, intrigued.
"Ohhh," Bianca purred, circling her like a shark. "The kitten hisses. Finally found your tongue, little maid?"
Yuna stood straighter, fists clenched. "I serve this family because I must. But I am not yours to humiliate."
For a moment, silence. Then Belle burst out laughing, rolling onto the floor clutching her stomach.
"Oh my fucking God—Yuna grew balls!"
Bianca's grin sharpened. "Careful, darling. Around here, mouths like that get stuffed. One way or another."
"Enough," Brittany barked, stepping in between them. Her voice carried the authority the others lacked. "We need Yuna. We don't need to break her."
Bianca smirked. "Speak for yourself."
The Filthy Spiral
The dresses kept rotating. Satin swapped for lace, lace for pearls, corsets for veils. But the sisters? They only got dirtier. What the fuck?!
Belle bent in a gown so pure it was practically undies. "Do you think Luciano will like this? Or will he rip it off before I even hit the aisle?"
"Rip," Bianca said without hesitation.
"Rip and burn," Belle agreed, laughing. "Good. I'll make sure to wear nothing under it."
The seamstresses groaned in despair.
"You two are shameless," Brittany muttered, though her fingers traced the beads on her veil a little too long.
Bianca caught it instantly. "Ohhh, look at big sis pretending to be holy again. Tell me, Brit—when Dante slides that ring on your finger, you gonna moan in front of everyone?"
"Fuck you," Brittany snapped.
"Gladly," Bianca smirked. "But Matteo gets first dibs."
"God, you're unbearable."
"No, I'm insatiable."
Belle laughed until tears smeared her mascara. "Sis, you're a menace. Straight menace."
"Damn right." Bianca raised her glass in a mock toast. "To the Valentinis: may they fuck us harder than fate itself."
The seamstresses crossed themselves.
The Yuna Confrontation
When the gowns were finally stacked, veils draped, and champagne bottles emptied, Yuna moved to quietly pack away the needles and fabrics. She thought maybe—just maybe—the storm had passed.
She was wrong, So damn wrong.
Bianca stopped her at the door. "Where you slinking off to, kitten?"
"I've finished my work," Yuna said evenly.
"Bullshit," Bianca smirked. "You haven't answered me yet."
Yuna froze. "Answered… what?"
"Who do you dream about?" Bianca pressed, eyes splendid. "Matteo? Luciano? Or maybe Alessandro himself? Come on, doll, don't be shy. You've got a cunt, same as us. Which Valentini gets it wet?"
Yuna's cheeks flamed, but she stood tall. "That is none of your concern."
"Oh, it's all my concern," Bianca rumbled, stepping so close their noses nearly touched. "Because tomorrow, the Valentinis are ours. And if you think you're gonna sneak in as their dirty little side dish, you'll answer to me first."
Yuna swallowed hard. She refused to look away. "I don't sneak. I survive."
The room fell silent. Even Belle stopped laughing.
For a moment, Bianca studied her like prey… then smirked slow and dangerous. "Survive, huh? Cute. Let's see how long that lasts."
Yuna slid out before anyone could stop her, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
The Callus sisters stared after her.
"She's got fire," Belle said finally, bending her glass. "I kinda like it."
"She's a liability," Brittany muttered.
"She's mine," Bianca corrected, licking her lips.
Champagne Confessions
The fitting chamber by now looked less like a dressing room and more like the aftermath of a strip club brawl. Champagne ponds on marble. Dresses half-hung, half-crumpled. Seamstresses whispering frantic prayers in French and Italian.
And in the middle of it all:
The Callus sisters, absolutely irrational.
Belle dashed open another bottle with her teeth, foam spraying across her cleavage. She laughed like a hyena.
"Fuck it, if I'm gonna marry Luciano, I want him to see me wasted and wild before I walk down the aisle."
"You'll be lucky if you walk at all," Brittany inaudible, towing at the hem of her gown.
"Oh, please," Belle shot back, guzzling straight from the bottle. "You think he cares if I stumble? He'll drag me by the hair if he has to. Valentinis don't marry virgins, they break toys. And I'm gonna be his favorite fucking toy."
The seamstresses gasped. Bianca clapped.
"That's my girl! Own it. Meanwhile, Brit's still pretending she's some chaste Madonna."
Brittany slammed her glass down. "At least I'm not a sloppy whore before the wedding even starts."
"Excuse you?" Belle staggered toward her, bottle in hand. "Sloppy? Honey, at least when Luciano bends me over, I'll scream his name. You? You'll probably cry into the fucking veil."
Bianca howled, collapsing onto the chaise. "God, I love us. We're disgusting."
The door opened again—Yuna slid back inside with a folded note from Alessandro's secretary. She kept her head bowed, hoping to drop it off and vanish before the storm hit.
No chance.
Bianca spotted her instantly. "Ah, the kitten returns! Just in time."
Yuna stiffened. "I only came to deliver this—"
"Drop it," Belle interrupted, pointing to the table. "And grab a glass. You're part of this circus now."
"I don't drink on duty," Yuna said quietly.
Bianca rose, greedy smile bending. "Then drink off duty. For once in your life, stop pretending you're above us. You're not."
Yuna froze as Bianca pressed a half-full flute into her hand. The bubbles hissed against her lips when she didn't sip.
"Drink," Bianca whispered, eyes locked on hers.
Yuna hesitated. Then—just to shut her up—she took a small sip.
The sisters erupted in cheers.
"Fuck yes!" Belle shouted, banging the bottle against the table. "Look at our little maid, finally joining the filth."
Yuna set the glass down immediately, cheeks flushed. "Satisfied?"
Bianca smirked. "Not even close."
Filthy Banter Spirals
The chaos got louder. The insults sharper. The crudity thicker than the champagne haze.
Belle climbed onto the table in nothing but her slip, twisting an empty bottle like a stripper pole. "This is my audition! Luciano's gonna see these hips and forget his own name."
"Sweetheart," Bianca said dryly, "he won't forget his name. He'll forget yours."
"Ooooh," Brittany muttered, sipping her drink. "She got you."
"Fuck off," Belle shot back, nearly toppling off the table.
Meanwhile, Bianca slinked up to Yuna, brushing her hair back with mock tenderness. "Tell me, kitten—when was the last time you were kissed? Properly kissed?"
Yuna's eyes widened. "That's none of your—"
"Oh, I bet never," Bianca teased, lips hovering dangerously close. "You're saving yourself for some fantasy. Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but men like the Valentinis don't want innocence. They want someone who bites back."
"I am not like you," Yuna whispered fiercely.
"No," Bianca smirked. "That's the problem."
Belle finally fell off the table, champagne exploding across the marble. Brittany cursed, shoving the seamstresses away when they tried to help.
"For fuck's sake, Belle, you're going to show up at your wedding with a black eye."
"Who cares?" Belle garbled, prostrate on the floor. "Luciano'll just think I've been roughed up by life. Adds character."
Bianca sat on the chaise like a queen surveying her ruined court. "Honestly? This is perfect. Three sluts in white, one kitten in black. Tomorrow we walk into the Valentinis' mansion and either fuck our way to power—or burn it down trying."
The seamstresses nearly fainted.
Yuna, clutching her tray, whispered under her breath: "God help us all."
Bianca heard. She smiled. "God's not invited, darling. Only devils."