The dress arrived in the late afternoon.
Sylvia found it laid across the bed in the room she shared with Thomas at the Lancaster estate, accompanied by a pair of matching shoes and a short note written in his perfectly controlled handwriting.
Dinner. Seven.
There was no explanation of where they were going or why he had chosen the dress, but that was not unusual.
Thomas had done this before Sylvia became a dominant omega.
The first time had been after Sylvia complained that she had nothing appropriate for a new restaurant he wanted to try. A dress had appeared the following morning, along with shoes, a coat, and reservations made before she had technically agreed.
The second time involved a concert.
The third had somehow ended with horseback riding.
For Thomas, buying her clothes was a tactical method of eliminating every possible obstacle between Sylvia and whatever new experience he had decided they should attempt.
