CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CASSIE
As it turns out, I made a monster obsessed with me.
It was supposed to be one night. I thought it was just that.
One steamy night with a stranger, albeit the best sex and one of the nights I’ve ever had, but I moved on with my life.
That was supposed to be it. I never really thought about that night again.
All I wanted that night was a little fun and excitement.
Instead, I incurred enough excitement to last me a lifetime and it all meant nothing to me.
Liar , my subconscious whispers.
I grit my teeth. Fine. Maybe I have thought about that night since.
More than I care to admit. I just can’t believe I forgot it was Damien.
The thing is, it was late that night, everywhere we went from the club to outside was very dimly lit, and on top of that, I have a habit of forgetting faces.
Even ones that look like Damien. Plus, I was drunk and it was a long time ago.
But the conversation stuck with me. It wasn’t often I met someone that understood me so acutely.
I wondered about him. But the thought of him was like a distant dream I needed to let go of.
Even my friends thought I was a little obsessed over him and I hate to see maybe in a way, I was. So I let it go.
Damien, it seems thought a great deal about it and held on to that night. Enough to make me his wife. I don’t know if it’s psychotic or somehow intensely admirable. I don’t know anything right now.
Except that I want to go home and lock myself in a room. It rarely ever happens, but right now, I’d very much like to be alone with my thoughts. Which is why Damien beckoning me to come closer is even more annoying.
I huff out a breath as a man who looks like Damien turns around. There’s no mistake that they’re brothers. This man just has a different haircut, and his aura isn’t as chilling. He’s also not as tall as Damien.
He offers me a wide smile, and my brows furrow in confusion as he lifts my hand and places a kiss on it.
“What are we, in 18 th century England?” I ask bluntly, momentarily forgetting my manners.
I hear a small snort from behind him, but when I look at Damien his face is blank. Weird.
Meanwhile his brother’s smile grows.
“I heard you were a lot of fun. Cassie, right? I’m Dante,” he introduces.
“Nice to meet you, Dante,” I say dryly. “How can I help you?”
I can tell he’s a little thrown off by my attitude, which is kind of amusing.
He has this bad boy youthful swagger that’s completely absent in Damien.
And it’s not because he’s younger than him in anyway.
I just think life took that youthful exuberance from Dante.
Their world is cruel and harsh, but I’m willing to bet Damien took on the brunt of that cruelty for his younger brother. For both his siblings, I’m sure.
I’ve seen the way he protects Sofia. He’d probably go to war for them both.
“I was just offering up my services,” Dante continues, getting over my attitude. “It’s going to be tough being married to the ass behind me. Just remember, I was the first choice. It could have been me today standing opposite you on that altar.”
“No thanks, I prefer Damien.”
This time I definitely hear a laugh. But again when I look up, Damien pretends he’s not listening in on every word.
“Seriously?” Dante questions.
“Seriously,” I say nodding. “I’m very aware that I was originally meant to be betrothed to you, Dante, but were you really going to marry a woman you’ve never met and know nothing about?”
“If the woman’s as beautiful as you, why not?” he shrugs. “Plus, my brother did and succeeded considering how much you’re defending him.”
“You’re brother’s insane,” I tell. “You don’t have to be too.”
Dante grins, “Okay I definitely like you, cognata .”
My brows furrow, “What does that mean?”
I seriously need to learn Italian. Damien’s prone to speaking a lot of Italian as well. Words I don’t understand. I speak a little Spanish and I am able to decipher some Italian words at times but now that I’m married to Damien, I might as well brush up on both languages.
“It means sister-in law,” he informs me. “Don’t worry. My brother has you now and it seems he’s met his match in you as well.”
I cross my arms over my chest, “Your family has serious problems. And please for the love of God, if you want a wife so bad, date a woman and ask for her hand in marriage first, got it?”
He smirks before stepping backward so he’s standing beside his brother.
“No woman’s ever said ‘got it’ to me before,” he says in a hushed tone but I still hear it.
“She continues to surprise me with each passing day, brother,” Damien replies in the same tone.
And then he looks at me with a smile. It’s a soft sweet genuine smile I don’t think I’ve ever seen on him. I notice he has fine lines beside his eyes. Like laugh lines. It’s sexy and they crinkle even further when he smiles.
I realize he’s genuinely happy and I briefly wonder how many moments of genuine happiness he’s actually had in life.
It’s sad. Even the night I met him, there was something about him that wanted to make him feel as good as I wanted to feel.
Something about Damien makes him seem like a very sad person if I really think about it.
Which is probably why my heart keeps acting so haywire.
I must be confusing empathy and one horny night with actual feelings for him.
He notices how intently I’m staring and the smile immediately drops. He breaks eye contact like he suddenly remembered where we’re standing.
In a room full of vultures, like he said earlier.
Dante leaves to speak to their sister and I’m left alone with the head of the pack.
“How are you, wife?” he questions, stepping closer to me.
My nose wrinkles, “Please, don’t call me that.”
“Cassie, you do remember a wedding ceremony and vows that give me the right to call you that for the rest of our lives, don’t you?”
I look up at him with an eyeroll, “You’re chipper today.”
“You could do with a smile as well. Should I get a bottle of whiskey?”
I slap his chest for that comment and he lets out a surprised laugh before shifting even closer. I feel my chest stop beating for a second when our eyes connect.
He has such a hold on me. And I’m afraid he knows it. I’m scared of what he might do with the knowledge. Especially considering all he’s been able to accomplish.
A shiver goes through me when he places a hand against my cheek and I feel my core stir. It’s the same way I felt when he was kissing me at the altar. Truthfully, that kiss was hot and made me feel so many complicated things. For a moment I wanted nothing more than to rip his clothes off..
I wonder if Damien would make love. Or if he’d fuck me hard again. Knowing him, it’s probably the latter. And I definitely know which one I’d prefer.
Can you blame me though? The man is as gorgeous and I have not gotten that night out of my head.
But having sexual attraction is one thing. Liking him is another.
“You really are beautiful, Cassandra Luciano,” he murmurs.
This time I shiver for a completely different reason.
****
I breathe a sigh of relief when we finally arrive back home.
Sometime in the past couple of weeks, I’ve started to think of the huge mansion as home.
And I’m not even upset about it. The truth is, the mansion is warmer than the home I grew up in.
I’ve only ever really had my dad. My dad and my best friends.
But Maxine and Chloe didn’t live in the same house as me.
It was just me and my dad. And it was lonely at times.
The Luciano compound is anything but lonely. There’s always someone no matter where I turn. Whether it’s stuffy bodyguards. Or Renata, Lila and Ana, Sofia, hell even Damien himself. It’s really hard to feel alone here. Maybe that’s why it’s grown on me so much.
We’re standing in the foyer, waiting while Luca and the rest of the men do a sweep of the house and our rooms. Damien’s being extra cautious because nothing went wrong at the wedding. No drama, no attacks. It’s almost too good to be true.
I now live in a world where nobody dying on a special occasion seems suspicious.
“Can I just go? I’m exhausted,” I murmur crossing my arms over my chest.
Damien’s leaning against the wall beside me. An entire day of festivities and he still looks amazing in his suit. Although he’s taken off his jacket and tie, and his sleeves are rolled up. Which is such a dangerous look on him. Entirely too enticing.
I look away, my jaw clenching as I try to banish any unwanted thoughts.
“You’ve barely eaten all day,” he points out.
“I’m not hungry.”
He arches an eyebrow in disbelief.
“It’s late,” I say, backpedaling. “Renata’s asleep and so is everyone else, probably. I’ll just eat in the morning.”
“Or you could eat now,” he says, pushing off the wall. “Come on, I’ll cook for you.”
My mouth nearly drops open, “You’ll what? You can cook?”
“Don’t act so surprised, mi vida . I’m multitalented.”
“When did you even have time to learn how to cook? Between learning to kill people and building a mobster empire?”
“Pretty much yeah,” he replies easily.
Despite my lack of belief, I follow him down the hallway toward the empty kitchen.
Once we get there, he gestures for me to take a seat while he starts pulling out ingredients to make the fettuccine alfredo.
I watch him as he does his thing for a bit, both of us quiet.
Which is nice, but of course he has to break it.
“You haven’t said anything, you know.”
“About?” I question.
“What you remembered.”
I shift a little in the chair, exhaling softly.
“I have nothing to say.”
“How about sorry for forgetting you, Damien?”
I glimpse some genuine hurt in his eyes and it makes me feel slightly guilty. It’s easy to think of Damien as steel. Untouchable and utterly unshakeable but the truth is he’s human too. A human with feelings. Feelings I probably hurt by forgetting a night that meant a lot to him.
“I didn’t forget you,” I say defensively. “I just forgot your face.”
He gives me a look asking how that’s much better and I sigh.
“I’m not the bad guy here. You’re the crazy one for deciding I was going to be your wife after one night.”
“Sometimes you just know, sweetheart. There is no other woman worthy of being my bride. I knew you were the one for me, and I walked away that night, intending on making it happen.”
My eyes meet his blue ones and I feel something pulse in my chest. It takes a minute before I speak again.
“Does this mean you’re like in love with me or something?”
Damien smirks, “What’s the answer to that question going to achieve? Do you want me to be in love with you, Cassandra?”
I shrug, feeling awkward. How is that an answer to the question? All I needed was a yes or no.
“I don’t know,” I say after a couple of seconds. “Frankly, I’m not sure you’re capable of love. This all feels like a weird obsession. Who knows, in a couple of months, maybe you’ll grow tired of me, toss me aside.”
His eyes grow alight, burning me with their intensity.
“My feelings are not that fickle,” he grits out. “I’ve waited for you for years, bella . And now I’ll have you for the rest of my life.”
I feel a pit in my stomach. I don’t know if I want to feel touched by those words or terrified.
Through it all though, I manage to ask quietly, “So you do have feelings for me?”
“Of course, I do,” he states, his eyes growing softer.
I have no idea what to say to that. I could tell him I feel the same, but that would simply be digging myself into a further hole.
Instead, I say nothing and he seems okay with that.
He serves the fettuccine aflredo, which he got ready in record time, mainly because the alfredo sauce was already prepared.
stare at the food on my plate for a moment, hesitant. It looks good but the taste…
Damien chuckles, “If you can’t trust me to make a delicious meal, we’re never getting anywhere in our relationship.”
“Our.. relationship?”
“Cassie, we’re married,” he points out.
“So you keep saying,” I murmur. “Well, excuse me if I’m having a hard time keeping up with all of this. Normal relationships don’t start with weddings.”
“This isn’t a normal relationship. And we’re not normal people,” he states. “Now.. eat.”
I huff out a breath before taking a bite of the food which ends up being really good. I look up at him in surprise.
“You could give Renata a run for her money.”
He smiles, “I would hope so, considering she taught me how to cook.”
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Luciano?” I ask, taking another bite.
It’s probably the best fettuccine alfredo I’ve ever eaten in my life.
Although I’m not sure if it’s because I’m pleasantly surprised or due to the man serving it to me.
Damien seems content to watch me eat. His arms are crossed as his eyes remain focused on my face.
It doesn’t bother me though. A part of me is used to his intense gaze. I like it even.
“Now that you’re getting food in you, we should probably talk about where you’re going to sleep tonight.”
I nearly choke on the food which triggers a short laugh from him. He offers me a glass of water which I gratefully accept, taking a gulp before talking.
“What do you mean where am I sleeping? In my room, on my bed.”
He cocks his head to the side, “It’s our wedding night, mi vida .”
“It’s not happening, old man.”
I laugh at the offended face he makes at that, “Who are you calling old?”
The situation is surprisingly light. A part of me knows he could very well press the issue of me sleeping in his bedroom, maybe even convince me if he takes his shirt off or something. Instead he lets out a soft breath, stepping forward to cup my cheek.
“We’ll go at your pace, sweetheart. Whenever you’re ready.”
I swallow softly. The truth is, I’m ready now. My heart wants nothing more than to fall deep into the vacuum that is Damien Luciano. But my head knows better.
Or at least I hope it does.