Page 29 of Captivated

“So, hey,” Cella drawled suddenly.

At just the sly tone her sister took on, Liliana knew Cella was about to get up to something. Whether or not Liliana would like it was a whole other story. Sometimes, it was a toss-up with Cella.

“What?”

“Last week at dinner—you know, the one with Mr. Built-Like-A-Brick-Shithouse.”

Liliana blinked.

What?

Cella laughed hard, and pointed at her sister. “Oh, my God, the look you just had—deceased. I am dead.”

“What are you talking about, Cella?”

“At dinner last week. You know, the mansion. Joe Rossi.”

Oh.

Oh.

No doubt, Cella had not missed the passing glances, or the way the conversation between Liliana and Joe at the dinner had felt laced with something else entirely. Friendly, sure, but a little bit more, too. Not to mention, Joe hadn’t bothered to pay any other woman sitting at that table any bit of attention but for her.

She adored that, too.

Liliana tried to school her features when she asked, “What about it?”

“Did I miss that there might be something there—or could be?” Cella asked.

“I mean, he’s cute—”

“More than, actually.”

A hot spike of jealousy flared in Liliana’s gut at nothing more than the idea of Cella finding Joe attractive. Before she could think better of it, she said, “Don’t look as much, and you won’t notice, Cella.”

“Wow, okay.” Her sister nodded. “Definitely something there. Tell me everything.”

Shit.

Now, her sister wouldn’t let up until—

Liliana’s thought process shut off entirely at the sight of a black stretch limo passing by them on the street. There were probably thousands of limos in the city. One on every block, if someone wanted to look for them.

It wasn’t so much the limo itself as it was the small flags on the front and back end of the vehicle. A signal to those outside of who might be inside.

And suddenly, Liliana shut down.

Or rather, broke down.

A full-blown panic attack right there in the middle of Fifth Avenue. Her heart raced to the point it felt like she was going to have a heart attack, and the only thing she could really hear was her blood rushing in her ears. No matter how hard she inhaled, it felt like she couldn’t get enough air with every breath. So, her breaths just came faster and faster while her palms clenched into tight fists. Tight enough for her fingernails to break the skin of her palms, and likely leave crescent-shaped bruises behind.

None of it registered, though.

Even after the limo was gone.

Even through her sister trying to help.

None of it registered.