~ Chapter 22 ~
Nico
“Is she home?” I ask Rocco as soon as I answer his call. I’ve been waiting for an update for fucking hours now.
“Yeah, she just got here in a taxi.”
“Did she look okay?”
“I didn’t see anything wrong. She got out and hurried right inside. She had what looked like a gym bag with her.”
“Follow the driver and ask him where he picked her up from.”
“On it. I’ll call you back.”
I don’t want to think about why she left me after everything we shared today and why she’s getting home at three fucking thirty in the morning, because I’m pretty sure I can take a good guess.
I pace the living room of the suite and right over to the desk to pour myself a hefty glass of whiskey. I gulp it down and stand in front of the windows, looking down at the boardwalk.
I thought there was something wrong. I thought I did or said something that was too much for her and she ran. Cassie is the most unpredictable woman I’ve ever met.
My phone rings again, and I answer it quickly. “Where did she come from?”
Rocco hesitates to answer, but ultimately says regretfully, “Pandemonium.”
I hang up on him.
Fuck!
I fucking knew it.
How could she?
She got a job at another strip club. And Pandemonium? Jesus, that place is fucking sleezy. She came to me today. She came to me and said I was what she wanted.
And after what we shared today?
Then she sneaks out and goes to work at that fucking place? Showing her body to men who don’t have the right to even breathe the same air as her on this earth, let alone see her fucking naked.
She played me.
I’m fucking fuming, and I don’t know what do with my anger. This is new for me. I’m not an angry person.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
I take a few deep breaths and pour some more whiskey before I’m even a little bit calmer.
I told her she was only going to dance for me, but I should’ve known her stubborn ass would find another club to work in rather than ask me for help.
I mean, Jesus, how much money does she fucking need to help her brother?
I gave her a car to sell and it still wasn’t enough?
She sure as shit wasn’t acting stressed over money today. I thought we were good.
Goddamn it, why didn’t I ask her?
Probably because I was loving how open she was for the first time that I assumed everything was good.
Well, since I know she’s awake, I’ll send her another message.
Me:What part of you only dance for me now did you not understand, Cassandra?
She doesn’t answer me straight away, so I try again, letting the whiskey I’m drinking get the better of me.
Me:I didn’t realize you needed more money than the car I gave you that you sold. I would’ve given you more for the performance you gave me today if I knew.
Cassie:Did you really just say that? Fuck you.
Me:You already did.
Cassie:I’m doing what I have to to save my brother.
Me:I could’ve helped, but you’re too proud to ask for help. You’d rather take your clothes off and have strangers shove money in your tits and ass rather than have someone who cares about you help you.
Cassie:You don’t get to say that to me. I never asked you to care about me, and you don’t get to judge me for my choices when I know what you’ve done for your family. You think I haven’t overlooked fucking a killer?
I throw my phone onto the couch. Did I imagine today? Did I create a whole fucking fantasy between us where we were on the same page and basically confessing our love for one another?
Am I fucking crazy? Did I imagine all that?
Standing, I eat up the distance to my room in angry strides to pack my shit up. I need to go home.
This is why I don’t get attached to anyone.
This is why I don’t fuck women more than once.
Cassandra fucking Connelly got under my skin and now I don’t know what to do.
It turns out I was right to not trust or let myself care about a woman. It fucks you over. They fuck you over.
In the family, I’m trusted to remain impartial and be able to give advice and make decisions that are best for everyone. And yet this woman has my brain and the stupid organ in my chest at war with each other, and I don’t know what’s good for me.
My head is telling me to go back to the city and back to work, but my heart doesn’t want to leave her.
I want her to want me.
I want Cassie to choose me.
And I know I’m an asshole for even thinking that because she’s doing it to help the only family she has left, but I get to be an asshole if I want to be one. Especially when I have the means and am able to help her however she needs.
I thought we worked through me having her fired.
She’s a good fucking actress if she can be with me and make me believe she’s finally going to be all in with me while knowing she’s about to go take her clothes off for other men the second she can get away from me.
She said she’s overlooked me being a killer, but I don’t even know how those two things compare. I’ve killed those who’ve deserved it. Men who have brought nothing but evil into the world since they took their first breath. I did the world a few favors ridding it of them. Cassie could ask me about them and I would tell her the same.
I shove all my shit into my bags and get the fuck out of the room. I see her everywhere in here, and there’s no way I’m getting any sleep in the bed that still has her scent clinging to the sheets.
I ride the elevator down to the ground floor and switch to another, private one, that will give me access to our family’s level in the parking garage. I have to punch in a special code, give my fingerprint, and have my retina scanned for it to descend.
I need a fast car tonight, so I take the keys to one of the Ferraris from the lockbox on the wall beside the elevator.
The sound of the engine drowns out my screaming thoughts for the moment, and I open her up once I get onto the highway.
But the farther I get from Cassie, the worse I feel. Probably because I’m leaving behind the one person I wish was in the passenger seat beside me.