Page 60 of Forced Vows

Syndicate heads don't spend their time in the public eye.

The elevator chimes again and soon my cousins and Kara's husband are being introduced to the De Lucas.

"Isn't the décor dreamy?" Fiona asks the group with a rapturous look around.

I have to cough to cover the laugh that wants to burst free. Both from my cousin's acting ability and the look on Miceli's face.

"He says it's very pink," Catalina says with an indulgent smile for her brother-in-law.

"I love it," I tell her. "It's perfect."

Catalina's smile widens. "I knew you would."

Does she know about Miceli's aversion to the color? I doubt it.

Talking about the women he doesn't take to bed isn't going to happen in front of his brother's wife.

From the way he dresses, you'd think he hates all the colors except black and dark gray. I don't know about that, but I do know he doesn't like pink.

He thinks it's too sweet and that I'm too young. Two facts I'm happy to exploit.

I know because my cousins and grandmother are like living with my own personal Google and gossip columnist.

Apparently, Miceli De Luca doesn't flirt with women dressed in pink, who have pink hair, or who wear cotton candy pink lip gloss. Like what I'm wearing now.

Was wearing before he kissed it off. Huh.

Speaking of, I tap Fiona's shoulder. "I need to refresh my…" I wave at my mouth. "Want to come with me?"

"I'm coming too," Kara says quickly. "I want to know how you lost your lip gloss between the time you came up in the elevator and we arrived."

Accessible by an elevator that requires a VIP keycard, this area of Festa is completely shut off from the rest of the club. From the tour I took with Catalina while planning the party, I know there are smaller rooms off the main area.

They're for private parties and patrons who want to use bottle service with their guests instead of ordering from the club's extensive drink menu.

We're not using them tonight and they've all been locked to stop potential sexcapades during my 21st while the alcohol flows freely.

Not that I plan on drinking much.

At least half the guests will be people I don't know from the Italian mafia. It's Miceli and my first public appearance together.

One big show for the audience of the New York underworld. It's weird though, right?

We had sex, but we've never been on a date.

Is his family hosting a party for my 21st considered a date? In our messed up world, it probably is.

Too bad he's not Mr. Romance and I'm not a blushing ingénue.

When we get to the ladies room, the cailíní and I automatically check to see if anyone else is in here before we start talking.

"Empty," Kara says after trying the handle on the final stall door and finding it unlocked.

Each stall is entirely walled off, with only a couple of inches above and below the black doors. Talk about an invitation to illicit sexy times. Or drug deals.

The bathroom fits the rest of the club's stark décor. The walls are white, while the doors and long counter with three sinks are black. Even the touchless faucets are black.

"No wonder Miceli picked this club for your party. He's surrounded by his favorite color," Fiona says.

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