“Did those freaking brutes hurt you?”
I shake my head. “They simply turned their dead eyes on me and Gino, the one who'd held me down. They all shared a look like the deed was done or something. Creepy shit. Gino released me, straightened his jacket like the three of them hadn't just attempted murder. I kid you not when I say his face was completely blank. Bored, even. After a few seconds he looked down at me and growled, 'Your father will decide who takes your virginity. Your maidenhead belongs to the family's wealth. Remember that.'"
A rebel tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. I brush it away with the back of my hand, careful not to smudgethe delicate leaves painted across my face and lower over my collarbone. In the mirror, my eyes glisten, but I refuse to let more tears fall. I've cried enough over the life I never asked for.
Luna sets down her brush and wraps her arms around me from behind, resting her chin on my shoulder. Her embrace is warm and solid, grounding me when I feel like I might fly apart. In the mirror, we look like two halves of something whole. Her in her silk robe, me in nothing but body paint and nipple covers and a scrap of fabric between my thighs held in place with some very strong body glue.
"It took me two years to get over the trauma," I whisper. "Two years of therapy. Two years of flinching every time someone touched me. And here we are."
"Here we are," Luna agrees softly. Her reflection meets my eyes, and I see the understanding there, the shared knowledge of what it means to fight for something everyone else thinks they own. "About to take back what's yours."
I met Luna in the hospital cafeteria three years ago. Her sister Stella was battling cancer in the oncology wing while my mother wasted away from something the doctors couldn't name but I suspected was just the slow death of living with my father. We bonded over shared heartache under fluorescent lights that buzzed overhead, drinking coffee that tasted like burnt plastic. Through it all Luna found ways to make me laugh and I did the same for her.
She came from a family of thieves and I from a family of criminals. It’s like our friendship was destined to happen.
She doesn't care about the Marchetti name or the money or the power my father wields like a weapon. And I don’t care about thelegendary group of women thieves associated with her surname that make her wanted by the FBI for questioning.
Luna sees me. The real me. The angry, artistic, foul-mouthed woman I keep locked away behind the perfect daughter mask. She's the only friend my father doesn't know exists, and I will do anything to keep it that way.
Luna squeezes me once more before stepping back. "Turn around. Let me finish your back. I have a beautiful idea that will catch the eye of every man with a working dick."
My laugh is deep and I instantly feel better. “There’s no filter between your thoughts and your mouth, is there?”
Her wink undoes me as she gets to work.
“What are you painting?”
“It’s a secret your lover can describe to you.”
My lips purse into a pout. “That’s unfair.”
“Then I guess you better make sure you find someone to bend you over tonight. Now turn, my sweet jungle goddess.”
Shaking my head, I obey, and her brush resumes its dance across my skin. Cool paint trails down my spine as she adds more pieces of art that will allow me to disappear into someone new tonight. The sensation is oddly meditative, each brushstroke pulling me further from Ilona Marchetti and closer to whoever I'm about to become.
"How did you do it?" I ask. "When you went to the Gilded Key Society. Weren't you terrified?" The Key isn’t my destination tonight, but still.
Her laugh is warm and knowing, vibrating over my senses as she works. "Terrified doesn't begin to cover it. I walked in there wearing nothing but paint and stilettos, trying to steal diamonds from three of the most dangerous men in Seattle." The brush swirls across my lower back in a pattern that feels like wings. "And then I fell in love with all three of them. Life is funny that way."
"I'd settle for one," I admit. "Just one night with one guy who doesn't see me as a way into the inner Marchetti circle."
"Then that's exactly what you're going to get." Luna caps her paint and moves to face me, her gray eyes serious beneath the smudge of gold on her cheek. She reaches up and tucks a strand of my black hair behind my ear, her fingers brushing against the electric blue tips I keep hidden from my father. His perfect daughter with her secret rebellion. If he knew, he’d have it chopped off while I slept. No one does anything without his permission. Period.
And I’m damn tired of it.
"Listen to me, Ilona. No one gets to decide who you give your virginity to. Not your father. Not those brute fucking guards who need their hands and dicks chopped off. Not anyone. Tonight, you're going to walk into that club, you're going to find the hottest guy you can, and if it feels right…" Her smile turns wicked, her eyes dancing with mischief. "You go for it."
My heart hammers against my ribs. This is insane. This is reckless. This is exactly what I need.
Luna helps me slip into a pair of golden stilettos, fastening the clasp on each before she helps me into my long coat that caresses my calves. She takes her time buttoning it up to my throat. Thewool feels suffocating after the freedom of bare skin, heavy and scratchy where the paint has left me sensitive. But it's necessary. I can't exactly walk past my father's men wearing nothing but flowers.
I grab my clutch from the coffee table, the beaded fabric cool against my palm. Inside I have cash, lipstick, my phone, and the membership card Luna helped me secretly obtain for Scarlet Thorn. I ditched all the credit cards my father monitors. I have no ID that can be traced, either. Tonight, I'm no one. Tonight, I'm free.
"You think they'll recognize me the second I step out of that door?" I glance toward the window where the Chicago skyline glitters like scattered diamonds against the churning gray sky. Three floors down, a black sedan idles at the curb, exhaust rising into the humid air. Gino and his boys, watching. Always fucking watching.
"Your bodyguards are not the sharpest thugs in your father's arsenal." Luna moves toward the floor-to-ceiling windows in my living room, her silk robe swishing against her thighs. The blinds are open, the way I always leave them because the guards like to see movement inside, proof that I'm being a good girl. "Keep your chin up and walk out the front door like you own the world. I'll distract them."
I watch as she flicks off the main light, leaving only the soft glow of the corner lamp. The effect casts her silhouette in gold against the window. I know for a fact her feminine curves and the playful deep shadows will draw the guards' attention like moths to flame. I realize what she's planning and a nervous laugh catches in my throat.