Page 10 of Captivated

She respected ballet.

She worked hard for it.

Cella didn’t understand, and Liliana didn’t know how to explain it to her sister. Cella was two years younger than Liliana’s twenty-two, and she was just trying to have the time of her life. She was living her best life.

Her sister didn’t realize that Liliana was trying to do that, too. They didn’t have to be doing the same things to reach a similar goal, or to be happy.

What did it even matter?

“Maybe she’ll be out of her mood by the time we get upstairs to the theater room,” Liliana grumbled.

Catherine pushed out of the SUV with a laugh over her shoulder. “You know how Cella is—that’s unlikely.”

Tell me about it.

Liliana’s gaze scanned the driveway of the old Marcello estate as Catherine headed for the mansion. She didn’t see the same black car that had been parked off to the side when they first left for the store.

Or the gorgeous man she couldn’t stop staring at, either. The man with the sky-blue eyes, and dark hair. Just his size alone should have been enough to make Liliana a little hesitant considering he was built like a linebacker with the height to match, and an almost blank expression, but still … she had stared, and couldn’t seem to stop.

Which was altogether strange for her, considering … Liliana didn’t take notice of men anymore. At least, not ones she would consider strangers. She wasn’t as trusting as she once had been. Life taught her to be wary, in a way.

And yet, she wondered about him.

Who was he?

“You coming?” Catherine called.

“Yep.”

Liliana shook off the curiosity still burning in her gut, and headed after her cousin.

Before long, the two were inside the mansion, and heading for the upstairs where the theater room was situated. Her grandparents owned the mansion—no one lived there but Antony and Cecelia, most of the time. Still, Liliana liked to visit them as much as she could. Usually, she brought along others like her sisters, cousin, or a friend.

It gave the place some noise. Life, even. And her grandparents loved to entertain. They never complained, and even welcomed it.

So was the Marcello way.

Upstairs, Liliana could already hear the laughter coming down the hall from the theater room. Catherine shot her a sly smile.

“Maybe Cella is in a better mood,” she said.

Liliana shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll be right in. I need to use the bathroom first.”

“Okay.”

Disappearing into the closest bathroom—one of probably twenty in the large, two-wing monster that was the Marcello mansion—Liliana didn’t actually need to use it. She pulled out her phone, and checked for any messages or missed calls.

The director of the Wylder Ballet Company could be particular. To say the least. While he didn’t mind giving Liliana the weekend to rest and relax in preparation for the coming weeks of grueling practice, and long hours of training, his mind was like a switch.

He could flip his decision back in a snap.

Just like that.

Finding nothing waiting on her phone to say Gordo had suddenly up and changed his mind about Liliana’s weekend, she counted her lucky stars, and considered it a win. Shoving the phone back in her pocket, she headed out of the bathroom, and damn near crashed into what felt like a fucking brick wall the second she left the room.

Liliana couldn’t have caught herself from falling even if she tried. For all her balance, strength, and grace … none of it helped very much when she ran headfirst into something as unexpected as—

“Careful there,” came a dark, rich voice.