Page 2 of Captured Innocence

“Because Mattia DeLuca is a dangerous man. He doesn’t like people who break the rules,” Celeste insisted.

“Aww. Poor baby.” I pouted my lips. “He will bend to my will.”

“Excuse me? I thought you two didn’t know each other.”

I shrugged and continued walking. “We’ve run into each other before.” The last time he’d issued a proclamation after saving my life. It was time I tested his resolve.

“God, you’ve changed so much since leaving for Paris.”

I faked a yawn and threw her a look. “All for the better. By the way, don’t forget to come early tomorrow for my glorious birthday party. I won’t be able to tolerate Lucia fawning all over me if she is able to fly in from the States.” While I adored my older sister, she also thought of me as a child, the birthday party planned in my honor another indication my family refused to believe I was all grown up. I had a terrible feeling my father was laying the groundwork for his promise to marry me off. The thought was disgusting and I’d disappear before allowing that to happen.

I thought about Lucia and sighed, missing her more than I cared to admit. How long had it been since we’d been allowed to spend any time together? She had a new life in the United States, enjoying being free from the tethers of our family and its wretched traditions.

Sadly, my gut told me that my father was prepared to parade me around to suitors at the great party as well. He prescribed to the old Italian customs, including arranged marriages. My mother certainly knew that better than most, her hatred of our father evident for my entire life.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Then I get to flirt with that sexy brother of yours.”

Exhaling, I stopped short, turning to face her. “You don’t want to have anything to do with Enzo. Okay?”

“Why?”

I hated to tell her that my brother was just like my father, maybe worse, truly an evil human being. “Because you have a normal, loving family. You deserve to find a nice boy who will treat you with respect.”

She narrowed her eyes then burst into laughter, believing I was kidding. “Party pooper. You can’t have all the fun.”

“I assure you that there will be plenty of dangerously stunning men there.” If I knew my father, he was using the event as an unscrupulous business opportunity as well, padding his already hefty bank accounts. “Now, come on. We’re wasting the night away.” Without a doubt, I was playing with fire, but I couldn’t help myself. I’d been stuck in a convent-like atmosphere for far too long.

Did I know what I was doing? Probably not.

As soon as we walked closer, the two beefy bouncers leered at us like we were fresh meat.

“Good God. Look at the two of them. Suddenly, I have a bad feeling about this. I don’t think they’re going to allow us to get in. You either need to know somebody or be somebody.”

“Stop worrying,” I told her as I strutted toward the entrance to the club. “We’ll get in.” I held out a golden card, which I’d stolen from a cute but boring young man in Paris. That’s the moment I’d allowed myself to consider acting on an adventure.

She took a deep breath. “You are such a bad influence.”

“That’s why you love me.” We continued to walk closer, the excitement building.

“How did you get away from the burly security guards who follow you everywhere?”

I gave her a look and batted my eyelashes. “You’d be surprised what showing off your boobs can do.”

“What?” She stared at me in horror.

“Not my finest hour but both of them looked the other way as long as I promised to keep them out of trouble.”

Celeste sighed. “Maybe I need to try your tactics once in a while.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Still, we’re only nineteen. The drinking age is twenty-one,” Celeste said as she fell in beside me. She’d been my best friend since grade school and even though I’d been forced to go to boarding school in France the day I turned eleven, we’d remained close. However, she was still the meek girl, while living alone for so many years had given me a boldness that I used to my benefit every chance I got. She was only now coming out of her shell. I’d smashed mine.

“So what? Our IDs are perfection.” And they were. I had an incredible source in Paris that had provided me with the finest quality pieces of identification I’d ever seen. Besides, there wasn’t a single person in the city who’d dare challenge let alone deny entrance to the daughter of Roberto Lazarro. They knew what would happen, the wrath my father would bring down on them.

I pushed in front of the crowd to the two bouncers guarding the door. Then I gave them the sweetest smile possible.

One of them started to tell me to get back in line before glancing down at the revealing dress I was wearing, a little something in scarlet I’d picked up before leaving Paris. It highlighted every curve perfectly, the length barely covering my butt while providing a lasting look at my long legs in four-inch stilettos.