27. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Cassandra
I t’s difficult to force myself out of the penthouse the day after Dominic comes home. He’s not the easiest patient, but I’ve been able to keep him confined. He spent the morning in his office reviewing accounts for Il Palazzo and signing contracts for Pharaoh’s Temple. Lunch, courtesy of Uncle Salvatore, is delivered precisely at noon. I ensure Dominic eats before cleaning the dishes and putting away the leftovers. When I step out the front door and head to rehearsal, I am unsurprised to find Lorenzo waiting for me.
“I still have a chaperone?” I joke, following Dominic’s security enforcer into the elevator.
“I hate to tell you, Miss Bain, but I don’t think you’ll go anywhere without a guard from now on.” At least he’s apologetic.
I roll my eyes but stay close to his side. There’s comfort in being cared for.
We’re quiet as we venture through the casino—the ring of the slot machines is our soundtrack. It’s not until we arrive at the dressing room that I get an “Enjoy your rehearsal” and a reminder that I have guards overseeing things from inside the theater. Lorenzo promises he’ll be my escort upstairs afterward.
Smiling in thanks, I push through the door and wave at a few girls passing by.
“It’s weird, though,” Whitney says, deep in conversation with Marisa. I eavesdrop as I place my bag in front of my mirror. “I heard that some guy was killed in the middle of the stage. It gives me the creeps.”
With instructions from Leonardo fresh in my mind, I interrupt. “That’s a rumor, Whit. No one was killed. The guy shot Dominic right before the police came in, and then they apprehended him.”
“Oh.” Her mouth twists to the side as I crush her gossip-fueled excitement. “Why’d he shoot Dominic?”
As I glance down, the rehearsed lie rolls off my tongue. “He was a disgruntled employee. He got fired a few months ago and didn’t take it well.”
“Uh-huh.” Marisa tightens her ponytail, turning toward us. “And that’s why he showed up with a gang, and the company had us sign a nondisclosure agreement.”
I shrug and pretend to search for something in my bag. “He’s a thug, and Il Palazzo doesn’t want bad press.”
“Whatever, Cassandra.” Marisa nudges Whitney, who takes a few moments to speculate. Eventually, Whit decides she won’t get more information from me and searches for someone new to share conspiracy theories with.
As Whitney walks away, Sadie rushes into the room, quickly tossing her bag on a table and stripping out of her sweatshirt. “Am I late?”
“Relax, when has Mr. Miller ever started on time?” I laugh, slipping off a sneaker .
“How’s Dominic doing?” Her ponytail ends up a haphazard mess as she frantically pulls back strands of hair.
“It’s hard for him to sit still,” I say honestly.
“Lucas, too. He’s called to check in with Marco twice today. He keeps asking if there’s anything he can do from home.”
“Yeah, rest.” Laughing, I join her at her mirror, ready to head upstairs and warm up.
“Oh. I have something for you.” Sadie rummages through her purse. “Lucas still had your phone.”
“Oh, my God! I was going to get a new one tomorrow. I thought I lost it.” I flip the device between my palms, checking for any damage but finding it in perfect condition.
“It’s dead. I have a charger if you want.”
Shaking my head, I toss the phone in my bag. “No, it’s fine. I’ll plug it in when I go back to the penthouse.”
Taking off her sweats and snatching her practice heels from the floor, she asks, “To the barre?” In the past month, we’ve fallen into a routine of warming up together before rehearsals. It’s hard to leave ballet behind, and having a friend who understands is nice.
“To the barre.” I link arms with her as we exit the room.
Three men stand in the kitchen when Lorenzo and I arrive at the penthouse. Marco and Leonardo, I recognize. They quickly introduce me to the third, Dante, as Dominic strolls in, holding a file in his good hand, his other arm in a sling.
“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” I scold, grabbing water from the fridge .
“For him, this is resting,” Marco says as he shakes Lorenzo’s hand. Next to each other, the two bulky men would be intimidating if I didn’t know them well.
Humming, I give Dominic a quick peck on the cheek, which turns into a heated kiss when he throws his file down and tugs me toward him. The catcalls we receive have heat creeping up my neck and cheeks.
“Look what I found,” I say once he releases me, holding my phone in the air. “Lucas had it. He gave it to Sadie.”
“Good. Keep track of it from now on.” Dominic swats my butt. Punishment for losing the communication device. “I don’t want you in another situation where you can’t reach me.”
“That’s unlikely,” I scoff. “Alexsey’s dead.”
The men around me glance at each other with an unease that has my gut clenching and twisting in knots.
I force down the lump in my throat. “It’s unlikely, right?”
“Yeah,” Dominic mutters. “Unlikely. I just want you to be safe.”
I don’t miss how his eyes cut across the room—a warning to his men. But for the moment, I acquiesce. I’ll drill him for information later. Maybe pillow talk will loosen his lips and get me the answers I crave. The grin that stretches across my face must give away my lustful thoughts because Dominics’s brows raise, and the side of his lips hitches in a smirk.
After kissing my cheek, he directs his men into the office so they can continue their discussion.
I place my water bottle down, planning to heat leftovers, when I notice Dominic’s file on the counter. I lift it, ready to call out to him, but a name written on the side makes me pause.
Anatoliy Kozlova
Who the hell is Anatoliy Kozlova ? I’m about to open the file when Marco appears around the corner .
“Oh, hey,” I say, trying to appear innocent. “You guys forgot this.”
He eyes me warily but accepts the item from my outstretched hand. “That’s what I came back for. Thanks.”
“Yeah, no problem,” I mutter to his back as he walks away.
I’ll interrogate Dominic tonight.
I eat in peace, flipping on the TV for background noise. The home remodeling show I land on doesn’t hold my interest until they do the final reveal. Exposed wood beams and a black accent wall were odd choices for a nursery.
After cleaning up, I stop by the bedroom to plug in my phone. Once I see the red battery logo on the screen, I place it on my nightstand and retreat to the bathroom. It takes me a few minutes to tame my hair with a curling iron, so by the time I return, my phone is on and dinging incessantly with alerts.
I need to be back at the theater in ten minutes, but taking a detour to check and ensure there’s no emergency is probably a worthwhile idea.
I missed calls from Dominic, Sadie, and Blanca and a few texts from Whitney, but I mostly missed dozens of calls and texts from my father.
Hey Cas, just want to check in with you about that trip I’m planning.
Call me soon.
Cas, trying to get ahold of you. Call me.
Cassandra, please call me.
All right, where are you?
Cassandra. I need you to call me immediately.
Shit.
I text him back quickly .
Hey Dad, I’m fine. I lost my phone a few days ago and just got it back. I have to leave it charging while I perform, but I promise to call you after the show!
Hopefully, that will hold him over for a few hours. At least he knows I’m not dead.
Lorenzo is waiting by the front door when I enter the living area. “Are you ready to go, Miss Bain?”
“At least call me Cassandra?” I beg. This is weird enough without being addressed formally.
He grins, a foreign look for such a serious man. “Sure, Cassandra.”
The casino is full of life when we enter. Dinner patrons stop at slot machines on their way to Il Palazzo’s restaurants. People enjoy a game of blackjack before they catch our show. At the bar, a bachelorette party flirts with any men willing to buy them drinks. I relish the energy and realize that Il Palazzo has become my home.
My show is flawless. The stress of the last few days falls away as I perform, losing myself in sultry dance moves. Sadie and I giggle backstage when Mr. Miller and Whitney get into a heated debate about costumes. Even Marisa rolls her eyes before sending a wink our way. These girls may not be perfect, but they’re my sisters, and I am increasingly grateful I ended up with them as friends.
I take my time stripping out of my final costume and redressing in jeans and a T-shirt, laughing as the other dancers tease a new girl about finding a sugar daddy. I reminisce about my first day when Whitney explained the concept. My lip catches between my teeth when I remember how that rehearsal ended—with me topless, locked in a bathroom with Las Vegas’s most eligible bachelor .
“Hey, Cassandra. Someone is waiting for you,” Marisa says with a wink as she opens the door to leave the dressing room.
A chorus of “Ooos” breaks out. I shake my head, grab my bag, and say my goodbyes.
“You’re supposed to be upstairs,” I say when I enter the hallway and spot Dominic leaning against the opposite wall.
“I got bored. And I heard a certain dancer needed an escort home.” Even with his incapacitated shoulder and the circles under his eyes begging him to rest, he’s devastatingly handsome.
“Are you trying to charm me, Mr. Tariello?” Our teasing turns into foreplay when his pupils darken and the emeralds in his eyes sparkle.
“Is it working?”
I laugh, smiling wide. “Maybe.”
“Not good enough. It looks like I’ll have to try harder.” He dips down, eyes locked on mine. “Let’s go home, and I’ll show you exactly how charming I can be.”
My heart stutters and stalls before beating twice its normal rhythm. “Home?”
“Yeah. I meant to talk to you about that.” His free hand runs through his hair with sudden uncertainty. “Leonardo found out that your rent on the apartment was due last week.”
“Oh, my God, I completely forgot.” My hand covers my mouth as my eyes widen in horror.
He licks his lips before pausing and holding my gaze. “I negotiated with your landlord.”
“I won’t be charged late fees?”
“Actually, you won’t be charged at all.”
My head cocks to the side as I try to decipher Dominic’s meaning. “But I can’t live there for free.”
“I was thinking maybe you wouldn’t live there.”
Breathing hard, I blink as understanding creeps in .
“Move in with me, Cassandra. I want you here when I come home. I want to know you’re safe when I can’t be with you. Mostly, I just want you .”
My answer sticks in my throat. Not because I don’t know what I’m going to say. Not because I don’t want to spend every moment with this man. But because I can’t comprehend that this is truly happening.
My lips curve into a smile so wide my cheeks feel like they may split in half.
“Yes.”
“Yes?” His relieved grin lights his features as he steps closer, his good hand reaching for me to pull me close. My gaze falls to his mouth, and more than anything, I want to feel his lips on mine. I want him to take me upstairs and make love to me in our home.
“ Cas ?”
It takes me a moment to realize that the concerned voice calling my name isn’t Dominic’s.
But I recognize it.
I recognize it far too well.
Dominic’s brows dip as he assesses the man walking toward us. A flicker of recognition flits across his expression before he faces me, his mouth opening as if he has a question poised on the tip of his tongue.
I stare in shock at the brown-haired man, his weary eyes drinking me in before they slide toward my companion. His hands fall to his side, a ticket from my show in one and flowers in the other.
I guess no one told him that showgirls don’t get flowers.
“Cas?” he repeats before indicating toward Dominic. “Who’s this? ”
I take a deep breath, an apology written across my face as I glance at Dominic one last time.
I turn to look at eyes so similar to mine that they could be carbon copies.
“Hi, Dad.”