CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
DAMIEN
She doesn’t process information the way most people would. There’s no element of emotionality in the way she approaches her problems.
And her lack of tears yesterday at the funeral didn’t escape my notice either. She seems to be adept at bottling up her emotions. And I don’t think that’s healthy at all.
I’m not saying I’d prefer it if she was crying.
And I’m certainly not a master when it comes to dealing with emotions.
But I do know that they need to be dealt with, regardless of how painful they are.
When I’m angry or upset, I find release through violence.
It might not be the healthiest method, but at least my feelings aren’t bottled up.
Currently, Cassandra seems intent on finding release at the end of the bottle of whiskey.
We’ve been silent for the better part of an hour.
I lean back in my chair, swirling the glass of whiskey in my hand, watching her.
She’s seated across from me, legs tucked up on the armchair.
I watch as she tips another glass into her mouth, without even flinching, throat working as she swallows it down like water.
It’s impressive. But the way she’s doing it, calm, detached almost mechanical.
It’s a little worrying. It’s like she’s trying to fill some cavernous emptiness inside of her.
Which doesn’t bode well for me. I brought her here, chose her in order to fill the emptiness that’s been brewing inside of me for ages.
And now it seems she’s got damage stitched into her skin as well. Maybe we’ll fix each other. Unravel the demons that hurt us. Or maybe we’ll worsen our individual scars. Either way, I look forward to seeing where we’ll end up.
She refills her glass again, emptying the bottle and I shake my head slightly.
“That was a twelve hundred dollar bottle, Cassandra,” I tell her, my voice low with a thread of dry amusement weaving through the words.
She shrugs, finally looking at me. Her cheeks are flushed but her eyes are still clear, bright in that maddeningly enticing way.
“Send me the bill,” she mutters.
I huff out a breath, “I’m not worried about the bill.”
She scoffs, “But I’m supposed to believe you’re worried about me? You don’t even know me and I have a hard time believing you see me as anything other than property, something you have to have.”
“I see you as a human being,” I refute. “With feelings and dreams and hopes for the future.”
“You killed all my hope yesterday when you brought me here and informed me I would have to marry you against my will.”
I swallow down some frustration, gritting my teeth.
“Drinking isn’t going to offer you any comfort, Cassandra,” I tell her.
“Right,” she says, pointing her glass in my direction. “But it can very well dull the edges of the pain from my miserable existence.”
My lips curl down. That’s a little too dramatic for my taste.
I rise slowly from my chair until I’m standing in front of her, “Come on. I’ll take you to your room so you can sleep it off.”
I have an appointment in an hour anyway. I cleared out my morning schedule to talk to her. I’m unsure if we really got anywhere but at least now she has an understanding of the situation.
When I stretch out a hand to help her up, she glares at it like it personally offends her.
“All of this, being kind and gentle. It’s not going to make this any better, you know. I will never accept this,” she promises.
“I know,” I murmur softly.
She believes she won’t but some things in life are simply inevitable.
I don’t know what she sees in my expression but her gaze softens for a fraction of a second and she accepts my outstretched hand, allowing me to pull her up.
I can’t help but take a moment to appreciate her beauty.
Soon, you’ll choose to stay. Not because I made you, but because you’ll want to.
She stumbles a little, wobbling on the heel of her shoe but my grip is firm as I pull her forward.
She’s standing so close to me now, closer than ever.
Her scent is like an aphrodisiac and I find myself wanting to keep it in a bottle and inhale it always.
Almost like I can’t stop myself I reach out to brush a loose strand of her hair off her cheek.
For the first time she doesn’t flinch away from my touch. She simply sighs before leaning closer. I think in her drunken state, she can’t seem to remember that I repulse her.
“I hate you,” she whispers proving she does. “But at least you’re treating me like a human being… I guess.”
“You are a human being, bella .”
I’m about to lead her out of the lounge when I hear the doors open. Considering I asked to be left alone, it can only be one person. My sister appears a minute later, her nose turning up at the scene. Cassandra’s head lolls before falling on to my shoulder. I glance down to find her eyes shut.
“What’s wrong with her?” Sofia asks. Her gaze lands on the table and the empty bottle of whiskey and glasses. “Is she drunk? It’s barely 1pm.”
“Don’t be so judgy, little sister. Especially not after your little show last night,” I remind her.
She rolls her eyes, “At least I had the decency to drink at night. Her first morning in her new home and she chose to get sloshed?”
Cassandra doesn’t react to anything my sister is saying. I think she has fallen asleep.
“I allowed her to,” I state. “She’s been going through a lot, Sofia. Her father only just passed away and she’s just found out she has to marry me.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Sofia questions annoyed. “She should be honored to be marrying the Don. Does she realize how many women clamor for her position?”
My lips twitch. I said the same thing as well.
“Anyway, be nice to her. You’re around the same age but trust me, you can learn a lot from her. There’s no need to pretend to be a bitch. Think about all that she’s going through.”
Sofia sighs. I can see elements of sympathy in her eyes but I know she’s not going to warm up to Cassandra so easily.
“Take her to her room so she can sleep it off,” she states before settling down on the chair I just vacated. “And for what it’s worth, big brother, she’s beautiful. I can see why you’re so infatuated.”
I want to tell her I’m not infatuated but that would be a lie. I’ve been infatuated with Cassandra for years. Instead of replying, I lift her into my arms and exit the room. Luca arches an eyebrow once I step out with the unconscious woman but he doesn’t say a word as he follows me to her bedroom.
One of her maids, Lila is already there. I tuck Cassandra into bed without a word, pulling the covers over her.
“Let her rest. I don’t imagine she’ll wake up until later in the evening,” I state. “If she does, give her something to dull the edges of her hangover if she has one.”
“Yes, sir,” Lila nods.
“We’ll have an early dinner. Tell Renata to prepare a meal for myself, Cassandra and Sofia. I’ll be back by 6, we can eat then.”
She nods again in understanding and after one last look at my sleeping beauty, I walk out of the room.
***
I head to one of our buildings in the city as soon as we leave the house.
I’ve got a pile of reports and documents to sift through before my first meeting of the day with a greedy businessman who’d like to grease my palms in exchange for providing him security and protection especially from any investigative agencies in the city.
It shouldn’t be too hard, considering I’ve got nearly everyone and everything under my control.
But I do plan to make him sweat first though.
I’m halfway through the first folder in front of me when Luca steps into my room, without knocking. I quirk an eyebrow at the intrusion, knowing the only reason he forgot his manners is because something’s wrong.
“There’s a situation, boss,” he says, voice low. “Down by the docks. Santori’s crew crossed the line again. Set up a deal in our territory without permission.”
My lips press down into a thin line. Santori’s the last person I want to deal with right now.
He’s a bottom feeder, runs a cartel that’s famous for encroaching on territory and stealing clients from other organizations.
The first time he dared to do that to me, I let him off with a warning.
I wasn’t in the mood for murder that day.
But today, I won’t be so merciful.
“Where?” I grit out.
“Warehouse 19. 5 o’clock drop. Guns from what I can tell.”
My jaw ticks. There’s a very high possibility I’ll be late for dinner.
I close the folder in front of me, “He’s going to go against my orders in broad daylight, knowing I can find out easily what he’s up to?”
“He’s not exactly known for his smarts, boss,” Luca points out.
“Right. He’s known for his brutality.” I push back from the desk, feeling the chair creak under me. “Unfortunately, that’s not going to save him this night.”
The warehouse looms like a skeleton in the dark, rusted metal, shattered windows, the scent of salt and gun oil thick in the ai. The sound of my footsteps echo on the concrete as we approach. My men fan out behind me, following without hesitation.
Inside, the Santori crew is already unloading crates. Twelve of them. Laughing, unaware. Cocky. They think they’re untouchable. I’m about to prove them wrong.
I step into the light and the talking stops. One of them, broad-shouldered, neck tattooed with the Santori mark recognizes me instantly. He stumbles backward like he’s seen a ghost.
“Luciano,” he breathes.
“You’re all in the wrong place,” I say, my voice calm, steady.
He opens his mouth to speak. I raise my hand and Luca shoots him clean through the skull. The sound echoes like a thunderclap. The rest panic. I love that moment. The precise moment when fear blooms like rot in their eyes. It’s beautiful. Honest. In fear, a man shows his true self.
They scatter, but my men are quicker. Shots ring out. Screams. One makes it to the stairs before I catch him by the collar and slam his face into the railing. Bone cracks. He whimpers something in Spanish.
“I’m only going to ask you one question,” I start, dragging his broken face up to meet my eyes. “Where’s Santori?”
“H-He’s not here,” he stammers. “He only told us there was a job to do and we came.”
“A job on Luciano territory. My territory!”
“I didn’t know,” he cries.
I drive a knife into his stomach. Twist.
“You should have.”
He slumps to the floor, bleeding out, eyes wide and glassy. I stand over him until he stops twitching. The rest are dead or on their knees, hands behind their heads. One of them is sobbing. Pathetic.
“Line them up,” I tell Luca.
“No survivors?”
“Not tonight.”
He nods and without hesitation bullets go off. One by one. Neat. Efficient. Bodies upon bodies hitting concrete. It’s done in minutes. I exhale a breath and walk back out into the night like I didn’t just bathe the floor in blood. I glance at the blood on the edge of my sleeve with a small frown.
“Sir,” Luca says following me. “Do we leave the bodies to be found? Send a message?”
“I think their presence here today was meant to send a message to me actually,” I state. “Santori’s absence means he willingly sent those men to their deaths and I plan to figure out why.”
He nods in understanding.
“As for the bodies. Just burn the whole place to the ground,” I tell him
Then I get into the car and head home for dinner with a woman who hates my guts.
When I arrive inside the mansion I find Cassandra heading to the dining room as well.
We run into each other and she falls to a complete stop at the sight of me.
Lila’s standing beside her, no doubt guiding her through the house.
“Hello, beautiful,” I greet. “Did you sleep well?”
Her eyes narrow, slowly perusing my face before lowering to the rest of my body. She gasps when she spots the blood on my sleeve.
“What happened?” she questions, eyes wide.
I look down at my sleeve with a shrug. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
“Is that your blood?”
I smirk, raising an eyebrow, “Is that concern I detect in your voice, Cassandra? Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine.”
“That’s too bad,” she mutters before her gaze grows sharper. “If it’s not your blood it’s someone else’s. You killed someone tonight?”
“Several people in fact,” I answer honestly.
Blood drains from her face with the admission, “What kind of sick person are you?”
“The kind you’re going to marry. Now, I’m going to change and then we’re going to enjoy a nice dinner with my sister.”
“I’m not eating with you!” she snaps. “I want nothing to do with you.”
I remain calm as she whirls around, ready to return to her room.
“Cassandra,” I call, stopping her in her tracks. “You’ll be allowed to call your friends in the morning.”
That has her looking back at me, renewed hope in her expression.
“Why are you allowing me to do that?”
“Because you need to invite them to the wedding. It’s happening in a week and I’m sure you’d like their presence there.”
Her lips part and I watch as her eyes fill with shock and terror. Unfortunately on her, the sight of fear is nowhere near appealing. I’m more annoyed and plagued with the need to dispel it and ensure she never has to feel it again.
“Since you’ve declined my invitation for dinner, you can return to your room. I’ll see you in the morning, bella .”
She shoots me one last glare before practically running up the stairs and away from me. I watch as she leaves, wondering exactly how to proceed with the situation.
I have one week to figure out a way to get her to walk down the aisle without being forcibly dragged to the altar. Which means I need to somehow convince her that marrying me isn’t the death sentence she thinks it is.
Should be a piece of cake.