4. Cassandra
4
CASSANDRA
“ W hat did Rocco Moretti want with you?”
We barely make it backstage before the question bursts from Claudio’s lips.
I take a steadying breath.
It wasn’t as if I could tell him the truth—that it was clear that Rocco wanted to do many things with me. I could tell that the desires he spoke aloud only scratched the surface.
The rest of what he wanted had been implied by the way his frighteningly beautiful gray eyes devoured me whole, promising all the secret, terrible, salacious things he would do to me if I would only give him a chance.
And dear God, did I ever want to give him that chance.
Sitting across from him had been the worst kind of torture. Each word that came out of his mouth picked at my resolve so thoroughly I had been seconds away from giving in entirely.
I had been seconds away from suggesting we fall into the nearest bathroom so he could show me exactly what he intended to do with his fingers.
“He was just introducing himself. He’s the boss, after all.”
“ I’m your boss,” Claudio counters.
I swallow hard. “Of course you are, darling. He was just being polite.”
“Moretti doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”
I can’t help but agree with him there.
Claudio must see it on my face because the next thing he asks is, “Did he try to proposition you?”
“Claudio…”
“I will kill him.”
“Claudio!” I grab hold of his sleeve, a pitiful attempt to prevent him from leaving, but one that mercifully stops him in his tracks. “It’s you and me, remember? I would never betray you like that.”
He searches my eyes for the truth, and I pray to everything that’s holy that he finds it there.
What the hell was I thinking, allowing myself to be seduced by someone like Rocco Moretti? Not only is he a self-proclaimed billionaire, he’s the person who’ll be signing my checks.
It’s no wonder Claudio is acting like this. I could have sabotaged my entire career tonight. Our careers. All because my mind turns off whenever Moretti looks at me like I’m some lovesick teenager. I need to get a grip.
“I should never have spoken with him privately. I see that now,” I tell him. “Whatever he wanted wasn’t worth someone coming between us.”
“He’s a manipulative bastard. You should have known better. You should have come straight to me.”
I bow my head in shame. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not strong enough to deal with men like Moretti. They’ll spin whatever pretty lies they want to get you into bed with them.”
“I’m sorry.”
He takes me by the arms again. “You’re mine, Cas.”
I can’t stop the hiss of pain that escapes my teeth. But Claudio doesn’t let go.
“Please, Claudio. You’re hurting me.”
“If that bastard approaches you again, what will you say?”
Traitorous tears begin to prickle in my eyes. “I won’t say anything. I’ll come straight to you.”
He releases me finally, and I sag to the floor, focusing on getting air into my lungs.
“You’ve really pissed me off today, Cas.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m going out. You can see yourself home.”
My eyes snap up to his. “But I thought we’d get a cab and go home together?”
“What did I just say?”
There’s nothing gentle or loving in his eyes. All I see is sheer annoyance. I look down at my knees on the dirty floor. I stay in place, pathetically kneeling on the floor and maintain my numb silence until I hear him leave. The door closes behind him with a definitive bang.
When the tears come, I’m not entirely sure who I’m crying for. Or for how long. All I know is that when Mia finds me, I’m still kneeling on the floor.
“Hey, hey, hey!” She kneels in front of me, green eyes wide with alarm.
“S-s-sorry.”
“Oh shush.” She pulls me in for a hug without any warning, knocking the wind out of me. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but it seems like a stupid question.”
After savoring a moment of her comforting embrace, I pull away, dabbing my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.”
Her green eyes linger, as Rocco’s had, on the tops of my arms. “Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”
“It’s fine, Mia. It was an accident.”
“You don’t need to defend that scumbag. Not to me.”
I get to my feet, using the time to compose myself. “I’m handling it, okay? He’s not dangerous. He’s just passionate.”
“Possessive more like,” Mia counters, her hands on her hips. “What would happen, do you think, if you broke up with him?”
Her bluntness never ceases to astound me. “I haven’t thought about it.”
“You know my door is always open, right? You don’t have to live with him.”
“You live in a studio, Mia. We’d be living on top of each other.”
“It would be like having a sleepover every night.”
I smile at the blurry memories from our childhood when we did exactly that. “You wouldn’t be able to handle the trashy rom-coms I’d make you watch.”
“You got me there.” Her lazy, reminiscent smile slowly fades. “But I’m serious. Just say the word, and I will murder that fucker in his sleep.”
She’ll do it, too, without hesitation. I know, because if our situations were reversed, I’d be saying exactly the same thing. The thought of anyone laying a hand on Mia makes my skin crawl.
But it’s easy to think that. It’s so much harder to redirect that kind of thinking to your own situation.
“I love him,” I say with a shrug as if that somehow makes up for everything else.
Mia gives me a long look before holding up her hands so I can help her up. “As soon as that stops being enough, you tell me. Agreed?”
My heart swells for the fiery woman before me and everything she’s grown up to be in those years we spent apart. “Agreed.”
“Good. Now that’s settled, do me a favor and stay the hell away from Rocco Moretti.”
I cross my arms. “You weren’t exactly subtle earlier. Why do you hate him so much?”
“It’s not that I hate him. He’s just…” she trails off, trying to find the word. “Very, very bad for you.”
“How ominously vague of you, Mia.”
I step away, grabbing my sweats and a T-shirt from the pile of discarded clothes in the corner. Mia makes herself comfortable at my vanity as I change behind the folding screen.
She tries again. “He’s dangerous.”
“How dangerous can a club owner really be?”
“I’m serious, Cas. You think I’d ever be able to face your mother again if I let you run off with someone who could get you killed?”
I physically reel at this information. “What are you talking about?”
“This place? The Tiny Ballroom, Electrix, Adelaide Bar, what do they all have in common?”
I rack my memory for any tidbit of information I can recall. “They’re all high-end entertainment establishments?”
“Owned by Rocco Moretti.”
“So he’s into real estate?”
“Cas,” she groans in frustration. “An Italian billionaire with a vested interest in laundering money through clubs in Brooklyn?”
“I feel like you’re encouraging me to stereotype.”
“He’s mafia, Cas.”
“And my rocket ship is waiting outside to take me to the moon.”
I step back into the dressing room just as Mia throws her hands up into the air. “I’m trying to warn you.”
“And I’m telling you I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself.”
But despite my words, my mind begins to spin, grasping at anything from our conversation today that could prove Mia’s theory to be true.
“I’ve known Rocco a long time. I know he seems approachable, charming even. But there are parts of him that he will never share with you. Parts that are too dark for you to ever dream of fixing.”
“I’m not trying to fix him.”
“Then what are you doing with him?” Mia snaps at me. “Because despite my best efforts, you still have that asshole of a boyfriend breathing down your neck every ten seconds.”
Exhaustion washes over me at her words. It’s so late, and work will already be hell tomorrow if I have to face Danny and Teresa again. “I’m tired, okay? Can we drop this?”
“I’m just trying to look out for you.”
I offer her a small, incredibly grateful smile. “I know.”
She returns it, and we both head back out into the club. It’s strange to see the space lit up and empty, like some kind of soulless shell, compared to how much life is usually crammed into every corner.
I wait by the door as Mia finishes locking up, and we both step out into the brisk night air.
Bracing myself for the long walk ahead, I shove my hands deep into the pockets of my leather jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
But when I turn back to wave, Mia is staring at me.
“How are you getting home?”
“It’s fine, Mia.”
“I thought you said you made tips yesterday.”
I shrug, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire that is the Cassandra-pity-party.
But Mia sees right through it. “I’m not letting you walk back to Brownsville. It’s four a.m..”
“I said it’s fine!”
“Quit being stubborn and take this,” she says, marching over and shoving a couple of bills into my hand.
I grimace as I look at the three twenties she passed to me. “I don’t need your charity.”
“Then pay me back later,” she insists. “I will not be able to sleep tonight if you don’t get home safe. And you don’t want to see what happens when I have to run a shift on under eight hours of beauty sleep.”
I offer her a weak smile. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Then keep trying to.” She gives me a stern look before turning away. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”
I wave at her retreating figure and let out a long breath.
It has been seventeen years since I was last in Brooklyn. In that time, the streets have become nearly unrecognizable. Still, I’m able to find a cab within a few minutes after helping a group of party girls to the nearest fast-food chain.
The cab ride takes thirty minutes, and I have to fight with each passing second not to fall asleep.
Claudio’s home is in an apartment complex on the wrong side of Brownsville. Seventh floor, no elevator, and a new type of stench emanating from his neighbor's door every time I pass by.
Still, it’s more than I can afford while trying to save up for a place of my own.
When we left Ohio, Claudio told me I was welcome here. All I needed to do was keep the space clean, and what was his was mine. But I think a part of me always knew I needed a backup plan, just in case the worst were to happen.
Like if he were to suddenly decide I owed him seven thousand dollars worth of rent.
I shake off the sense of despair and switch on the lights. Claudio is still out, as he promised, leaving me to assess my life in the cold light of the fluorescents.
My new reality is far from the comforts of my family home in Ohio. Claudio has little interest in creature comforts like a bed frame or a dish rack. Everything lives in piles. Piles of plates, clothes, take-out boxes.
I don’t have the energy to deal with any of it, so I wander mindlessly to the bedroom and sink into the mattress.
Closing my eyes, I will sleep to take me quickly.
But something keeps nagging in the back of my mind.
“What would happen, do you think? If you broke up with him?”
Lose my job, probably. It’s the one good thing to come out of this mess, besides being able to reunite with Mia after almost two decade’s worth of a long-distance friendship.
Claudio’s face flashes through my mind—the expression he wore when he thought something might have happened between Rocco and me. He’d hurt me again, that was for sure.
But what if…
What if there was someone who could protect me from his wrath? Someone who seemed more than willing to put Claudio in his place. Someone with the power to do that and more.
Mia’s warning rings in my ears.
It’s a stupid, ridiculous idea. I’d likely be giving up one kind of prison for another.
But the thought lingers, and sleep continues to evade me.
And Claudio should definitely be home by now. I check my phone for the hundredth time. Nothing except the “goodnight” message I received from Mia an hour ago.
Six a.m. rolls around, then seven a.m. I sit up in anxious frustration. The sun will be rising soon, and there’s only one club that keeps its doors open twenty-four-seven for people like Claudio Lazzaro.
I check my wallet and count up Mia’s remaining cash as I make the call.
“One taxi to Electrix, please .”