Forbidden

Cataleya groaned and rolled over, lazily swatting at her alarm. She clung to the last few precious minutes of sleep, savoring the chill of the silk sheets against her skin and the soft caress of the morning breeze drifting through the window. With a reluctant sigh, she finally dragged herself out of bed, letting the day pull her toward the shower.

The hot water poured over her as she scrubbed her hair with intensity, her thoughts spiraling deeper and deeper. She hated that she still had to live at home—only allowed certain friends, only permitted to date certain men, even restricted on social media. Her father kept her caged like a bird, and she was desperate to fly. By the time she rinsed the soap away, she had cursed him a dozen times in her head. Shutting off the water, she wrapped herself in her silk robe and headed downstairs for breakfast.

“Good morning, tesoro mio. Happy twenty-first, baby girl,” Don Moretti greeted at the bottom of the stairs, pulling her into a tight hug. “Maria made us breakfast—only the best for my birthday girl.”

He released her and pulled out a chair at the dining table, which was covered in an impressive spread: pancakes, fresh fruit, eggs, bagels, even a platter of cured meats.

“Thanks, Dad,” Cataleya said with a smile, though inside she was already rolling her eyes. Breakfast and a lecture—just what I wanted for my birthday. She eyed the food, unable to deny how good it looked. A five-star breakfast didn’t make up for a five-star prison. Still, Maria’s cooking was too good to waste.

Her father joined her across the table, piling food onto his plate. “I’ve gotten you something special for your twenty-first,” he said, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

Cataleya raised an eyebrow in surprise, her mouth full. After swallowing, she chased it down with juice and cleared her throat. “Are you… letting me have a party?” she asked, a flicker of hope in her voice.

Don chuckled lowly, shaking his head. “You really aren’t going to let that go, are you?” He took a bite of his waffle, letting the question linger before speaking again. “I’ve told you—no parties. Bad things happen at parties, and I won’t let anything happen to you. That’s why I’ve gotten you something that ensures you’ll always be protected.” A small grin tugged at his lips as he checked his Rolex. “Should be here any minute.”

Cataleya groaned, shoving a strawberry into her mouth, arms crossing over her chest in protest. “What? A gun?”

“Finish your breakfast, and then we’ll talk,” Don said, gesturing to her plate. His tone was firm but never harsh. For all her rebellion over the years, Don had never raised his voice at her in anger—though his word was law, and they both knew it.

After they cleared their plates, Cataleya carried the dishes to the sink. “I hate surprises, Dad. You know this.” She sighed, rinsing each dish one by one.

Don stood from his chair, walking to the whiskey cabinet and pouring himself a glass. “You’re so much like your mother,” he said quietly, his back to her. His voice cracked before he took a long sip and steadied it. “I’ve hired you two bodyguards. They’ll be with you at all times, to keep you safe.”

Cataleya froze at the mention of her mother, a woman she had never known. The weight of it distracted her almost enough to miss what came next. Almost. She spun, towel still in hand. “You cannot be serious, Dad.” Her voice rose with each word. “You got me babysitters for my twenty-first birthday? Absolutely not. No. It’s not happening.” She rolled her eyes and tossed the towel down, storming toward the stairs.

Don didn’t flinch. He rarely did. Swirling the whiskey in his glass, he called after her, “Don’t walk away from me, Cataleya.” His tone carried enough authority to freeze her in place. “This isn’t up for discussion. Cade and Matteo are great men, and they’ll do their job well. Besides, they’ll be the ones driving you anywhere from now on. You won’t have to wait on me.”

Cataleya whirled back toward him, arms crossed, fury flashing in her dark eyes. “I’m not a child anymore, Dad. I don’t need babysitters, bodyguards, or protection. Do you know what normal twenty-one-year-olds do for their birthday? Party. Drink. Go clubbing. They don’t get their freedom stripped away even more than it already is.”

“Cataleya!” Don’s sharp bark cut her off, rattling through the kitchen before his tone softened back to steel calm. “You’re not normal, and I’m not a normal father.”

Before she could retort, the kitchen door opened. Two tall, tattooed men stepped inside. Cataleya took one look at them and groaned inwardly. Of course. He picked the most noticeable men alive. I’m never going to have a normal life.

The taller of the two approached first, shaking Don’s hand before turning his unreadable gaze toward her. “You must be Cataleya.” He extended his hand, but she refused to take it, arms still crossed as she rolled her eyes.

The second man chuckled, stepping forward. He was a couple of inches shorter but bulkier, his muscles stretching against the fabric of his shirt. “By her attitude, I’d say that’s her.” A small smirk curved his lips as his eyes lingered on her a moment too long, assessing, almost predatory. “I’m Matteo, and this is Cade. We’ve assured your father we’ll take good care of you. I hope you don’t make our job too difficult.”

Cataleya felt her cheeks heat at the weight of his stare. She hated that he unsettled her, that both men towered over her in a way she couldn’t fight, even if she wanted to. “No promises,” she muttered, breaking eye contact and glancing at her father. “I hope this isn’t my only present, because this is a pretty disappointing twenty-first.”

“Ouch,” Matteo teased, his smirk widening. Cade remained silent, unreadable, like a shadow given form.

Don’s lips twitched with pride at his daughter’s fiery spirit—so much like her mother. “Of course not, tesoro.” He reached into his wallet, pulled out a sleek black credit card, and tossed it onto the table. “Don’t spend it all in one place. I have business to attend today, but I’ll be home tomorrow. We’ll celebrate properly then.”

Grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, he glanced at the men. “Keep her out of trouble. Don’t let her leave your sight,” he ordered before heading out the door.

Cade’s eyes swept over her one last time before he sank into a chair at the dining table, silent and watchful. Matteo, on the other hand, leaned casually against the wall at the base of the stairs, his gaze lingering on Cataleya as she stood frozen in disbelief.

“I cannot believe I’m stuck with you two for my twenty-first,” she muttered under her breath, annoyance dripping from every word.

Matteo’s grin widened, amused by her pout. “We’re not that bad, princess. I promise. We can be quite fun, actually.” His tone carried a playful edge, with something deeper hidden beneath.

Cataleya scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure…” she said sarcastically, turning on her heel and heading upstairs. Neither man hesitated to follow, their heavy footsteps trailing close behind.

When she reached the top, she spun on them with an exasperated groan. “Really?! Do you seriously have to follow me everywhere? I’m just going to get changed.”

“Your father’s orders, ma’am. You can’t leave our sight,” Cade said at last, his voice flat, controlled, unreadable.

Cataleya’s brow arched, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Are you going to watch me change too?” she teased.

The remark caught Cade off guard, his jaw tightening as his muscles stiffened at her words. “Funny,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Didn’t think so.” Cataleya smirked, laughing softly as she turned toward her room. “You can wait outside the door.” She disappeared inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

Alone at last, she pressed her back against the door and inhaled sharply—though the thought of Cade and Matteo waiting downstairs made it impossible to relax.