Page 95 of Captured Fantasy

“You can’t let him marry her,” I burst out.

“You know, when I woke up the other day, the last thing I thought was that I wished I could see my brother-in-law’s sex tape. But here we are and there it is.”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry I disobeyed you, but I’m in love with Enza. I can’t just stop seeing her—I’m going to marry her.”

Lucien’s jaw worked. Some of the hardness left his eyes and I detected a hint of something else. Something that looked almost paternal. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, lighting another cigarette.

“Are you being careful?”

I blinked, confused. “What?”

“Are you being respectful of the fact that she could get pregnant?”

What the fuck? I felt like I was sitting there getting a lecture about condoms from my father. If my actual father had cared enough to talk to me about sex.

“She’s on the pill.”

“That’s not fail proof.”

“Sir, are you trying to make me too paranoid to fuck her?”

Lucien’s eyes flashed. “I’m trying to draw your attention to the severity of what you’re risking. Rico’s too bullheaded to wrap up or pull out, which means if she falls pregnant, it could be his child. Or it could be yours. Do you see how ugly this can get?”

“She told him she won’t fuck him anymore,” I said.

Lucien stood abruptly. “I’m going to handle this situation because you and Rico are too belligerent and too fucking stupid to control yourselves. Until then, can you do me a favor?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Just stop fucking her until I can sort this out,” Lucien said wearily.

“Oh, right. Yes, sir,” I said, even though I definitely was going to do exactly that the next chance I got.

“Trying to get through your thick skull has made me realize something very important about you. And about Rico.”

“What’s that, sir?” I asked, my mouth dry.

“That I’m talking to the wrong person about this affair,” he said, crossing to the door.

I rose. “Where are you going?”

Lucien put on his hat, straightening the brim. “I’m going to see Lorenza Russo.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

LORENZA

I woke one morning in late January feeling like something had shifted. With Lucien overthrowing Carlo Romano and Cosimo proposing to me, there had been a lot of change. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for more.

I got out of bed, my body slower than usual, and took a hot bath. I hated the cold, hated the winter, but soaking in the tub while snow whirled outside the window and the gas fireplace burned was a delicious luxury.

I put on a pair of dark jeans and a tight, black shirt with long sleeves and a deep V neckline. It took several minutes of staring at myself before I managed to settle on some simple makeup and fix my hair into soft waves.

My black heels lay on the floor and I picked them up, turning them over in my hands. I’d worn heels almost daily for the last decade and they gave me confidence. They gave me height and grace. When I saw myself without them, I looked young and small.

Uncomfortably vulnerable.

The realization saddened me. Somehow, before I’d even had a chance to become my own person, I’d already been molded into something else. I met my gaze in the mirror across the room. Was I a doll with fake breasts, a pretty body, and a throat that could take anything?

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