Extreme Makeover...they help people that are uncomfortable in their own skin. They really change lives.

-Steven Hill

I woke up on my fifth day on Lucca Cavelli's villa in Amalfi Coast. But now not only as his guest but his wife—his wife! I still couldn't believe that I am now married to him. It was late when I woke up in the unfamiliar bed when I remember that Lucca told me specifically that since now, we are man and wife I should be sleeping on his bed.

Well, at first, I balked at the thought that he was expecting me to share his bed. When he explained that I will sleep in the bed while he sleeps on the couch.

Now it was past nine in the morning. I walked to the dining room for my breakfast and I stopped dead. Expecting that no one else was present in the room, I was quite stunned when I found it was fully crowded.

"Buongiorno, il mio amore," Lucca smiled at me while he stood from the table and walked towards me. I braced myself when he lifted my chin and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. "Come, I would like you to meet some people."

He led me to near the table where an elegantly dressed woman was sitting regally on the table with a warm smile on her beautiful face. His hand was placed securely at my waist. And there was a young man probably near my age standing near the window. There were also a team of people who stood nearby but all of them were dressed appropriately.

"Mi amore," Lucca said, gesturing to the woman who stood from her chair. "I would like you to meet Francesca Marcolini. She's going to be your teacher from now on. Francesca, I would like you to meet my duchess, Mariya."

Oh! I almost forgot the makeover thing Lucca had bargained for before our wedding. And most importantly starting today I will not be Tatiana Rostova, the wallflower. But Mariya Cavelli, the wife of Don Lucca Domenico Cavelli, Duca di Caprielle.

"Glad to finally meet you, Your Grace." Francesca said, extending her perfectly manicured hand in my direction.

"Likewise." I replied shyly, shaking her hands briefly. "Please, call me Mariya, Miss Marcolini."

The woman smiled. "Then you must call me Francesca."

"Francesca."

"And this is your private driver, darling." Lucca gestured to the young man, standing near the window. "This is Giovanni. He will take you anywhere you want to go."

"Driver?" I asked him. "Why would I need a driver? I can drive myself."

Silver eyes smiled down at me. "Because I'm not going to be around to drive you always." He reasoned out. "And I don't want to worry about your safety when you're driving on those hairpin curves of Amalfi."

The women stood nearby sighed with envy at the adoration in his voice. Lucca was one great actor. I will give credit to that.

"All right." I gave up the fight for my driver thing.

He gave a smile of triumph. "Great. Now Francesca here will give you the lessons you need."

"Lessons?" I pouted my mouth at him. "Plural? Are they going to be many?"

Lucca laughed. "I know you're going to say that. Of course, they are going to be numerous, my darling. Francesca will teach you about etiquette and personality development. She's the finest teacher in the country for that."

"Leave her to me, Lucca." Francesca said with authority. "I now understand when you told me that she's ordinary and shy. I honestly don't believe you at first, now I understand. Don't worry; by the end of our classes, she will be the finest duchess Italy would ever see."

Satisfaction crossed my husband's face. "I knew you'd be the person for the job, Francesca."

"Well now let's start your first lesson." She told me. "Why don't you leave us first, Lucca?"

"Sì." The duke agreed, kissing my hair. I still wasn't used to these public affections. "Until later, my love. Come on, Gio. I would like to discuss something with you."

Once Lucca and my newest driver left the dining room I was left at the mercy of Francesca Marcolini and her team.

"Well," Francesca said expectantly, eyeing me from head to toe. "Let's start. And when I say, 'let's start' I mean we'll start at your hair, Mariya."

Okay, I know my hair is too long and sticks straight. And honestly, I also want to get rid of some of it. I might enjoy this makeover, after all.

A new look for a new life.

"But first," My teacher said, presenting a box in front of me. "You must wear them all the time starting when you wake up from the bed and remove them before you sleep."

I groaned when I opened the box. They are a pair of black Christian Louboutin sky high-heeled shoes. "They'll be too pretty just for practice shoes."

"Don't worry," Francesca said slyly. "I have tons of them for spare."

With a resigned sigh, I talked into the chair near the window and removed my sensible flats and wore shoes that might highly break my ankle at a wrong step. Slowly, I stood my chair wobbly. I was shocked from the advance height that they gave me.

"I know they will fit you."

I smiled weakly.

"Now, I would introduce my team to you." Francesca gestured every one of the girls with her. "This is Anna, the hair expert. She can do whatever hairstyle you desire." The woman had a bottled dye red hair and her hair was cut short bobcat with sharp edges on both sides. "This is Sophie, she's a fashion stylist. She dressed many Hollywood celebrities in the past." No wonder, the woman style and fashion were admirable from her French beret hat up to her velvet ankle-length boots. "And this is Gia, the makeup artist. She's well known in the industry."

Now that I have met her team, Francesca led me to my old room where I met the duke when I resurfaced. I walked slower than my normal pace because of the cursed shoes. The room was transformed into a mini saloon and department store. There was a dresser mirror chair and everything you could find in the salon where there was a stock of signature clothes and shoes on the other side of the room.

Francesca gestured for me to sit on the chair while Anna did her magic on my hair while Sophie scanned the rows of signature dresses and Gia looked for the makeup kit.

I sighed this is going to be a long day for me...

The sunset was beautiful on the Amalfi Coast. Right now, I am watching the beautiful orange sun on the window of my study area.

I haven't seen Tatiana since breakfast when I introduced her to my good friend, Francesca. I smiled privately, thinking that Tatiana probably wished that she's anywhere but where she is right now.

I am confident that Francesca Marcolini was the perfect person for the job. She could teach Tatiana the confidence she desperately needed, if she wanted revenge on those people who betrayed her and planned her death.

A discreet knock on my study room's door brought me back to the present. "Come in."

"Your Excellency," Allegra said in Italian as she curtsied to me. "The Duchess and Ms. Francesca are waiting for you in the living room."

I felt myself twitching with a smile. Perfect, I thought with satisfaction. The first day of Tatiana's makeover was done for the day. I stood from my chair and followed Allegra in the living room downstairs.

When I arrived at the foot of the staircase, I first noticed Francesca who stood from the sofa with a triumphant smile on her beautiful face.

"Lucca!" She said, "What can you say about your wife's transformation?"

My wife? I became aware of the other woman who was elegantly dressed standing from the sofa where Francesca was sitting. She bared a striking resemblance on Tatiana.

"So," Francesca said expectantly. "What do you think of her, Lucca?"

Dio! This is Tatiana? My Tatiana? The woman I married? She's nothing like the plain girl I married yesterday. The woman standing in front of me was too gorgeous not to notice. Is this beautiful woman who stood in front of me really Tatiana?

"Lucca," she said in her familiar voice. "Say something. And make sure that it's something nice."

I frowned. She may look different now, but her confidence level is still low. But this is only the start. She still has a long way to go, before she could achieve everything she wants for her retribution.

"Lucca ..." There was an edge on her voice, her violet eyes filled with worry. "You're scaring me with your silence. Do I look good? Fine? Or miserable? Come on, say something!"

I shook my head. "No, mi amore. You don't look miserable. You look...beautiful."

"Really?" Relief was palpable in her face. It made me feel like a king for granting her wish.

But in truth she was too beautiful for words to describe. Her out-of-style jet-black long stick straight hair was now cut layered past her shoulder with wavy perm. The dowdy clothes she preferred to wear were now out of sight. They were replaced by chic couture dressed. My gazed passed her feet. The once sensible flats were now traded to killer heels shoes.

"Heels, my darling?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. "Never thought I would see this day."

"Oh, don't jest, Lucca." Tatiana groaned, sitting back on the cushion. "My feet are aching. I've been wearing them for hours."

"And she'll be wearing them always from now on." Francesca inserted slyly.

"Sexy."

Tatiana glared at me, her eyes snapping with fire.

"Well, I should be going." Francesca said, picking up her bag. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Tatiana and I saw her to the door before we went back to the living room. Tatiana resumed on her seat and stretched her legs before her.

"How's your day?" I asked as I sat next to hers. I pulled her feet and removed her heels and massaged it. My efforts were rewarded by a groan of pleasure from her that sent my blood into frenzy, but I kept my growing desire for my wife in check.

Pity, she couldn't be the only woman I ever desire this much.

"It was hell." She replied, closing her eyes. Unaware of my thoughts. "But now it feels like heaven."

I picked her other foot and massaged it like the first one, ignoring the yearning in my gut. "Glad to help."

"Don't stop."

"Don't plan to." I massaged her feet until circulation flowed smoothly again. We stayed like that and we continued to talk about our day until dinner.