8. Francesca
It was all I heard before Cassio and Gianluca collided. I was knocked back, stumbled, and almost fell. Gianluca was now on the floor, Cassio over him throwing punch after punch, hitting him wherever he could. Gianluca wasn’t putting up much of a fight, and even if he could, no one could beat Cassio. I stood there watching the scene before me, unable to move.
“You okay?” Vitelli stood before me, checking on me.
“Yeah,” I assured him and when he was sure I was indeed alright he left me standing there.
He reached the two men and pulled Cassio from Gianluca. In the process, Cassio ended up elbowing his brother in the face. His head snapped back, and his nose instantly began bleeding.
Someone gasped beside me, and I turned to find Marie staring at the fight, her hands covering her mouth, eyes almost popping out of their sockets. Sometimes I forgot she wasn’t Outfit and wasn’t used to this kind of violence.
A crowd had gathered around us and people were starting to stare. I dug my nails into the palm of my hands feeling guilty for what I had created. This was all my fault. I bit my lip, too, trying to focus on the pain instead of the shame.
Eventually, a bloody-faced Vitelli managed to pull Cassio back, he vibrated with anger. His hands were bloody, and his face contorted with pure, unending rage.
“Oh God,” Marie made to go toward Vitelli, but I pulled her back.
“He’ll be fine.”
“But he’s bleeding,” she cried out.
“Marie, don’t.”
“His brother hit him,” she whined in shock. I spun her so she faced me.
“Cassio Moretti is a dangerous man. Don’t ever doubt that.” It was advice I’d take to heart as well. “Don’t give him any reason to hate you.”
We both looked back at the scene when they began to shout at each other. Vitelli was still holding Cassio, locking his arms over his brother’s large body. Cassio was still trying to reach for Gianluca who smugly wiped his bloody lips and smiled.
“Ti ucciderò,”Cassio promised to kill Gianluca, and by the look in his eyes, I really thought he would.
“Get the fuck out of here, Gianluca,” Vitelli shouted.
He wiped his bloody hands on his pants, rolled his shoulders, and held his head high. His left eye was already beginning to close, but he didn’t seem to care.
Then to my horror, he looked at me, then back at Cassio. He shook his head as a sly smile graced his busted face. Gianluca walked away from the two Morettis, passing by Marie and me. He stopped, tipped his head, and winked.
“Evening, ladies,” he greeted and then finally left.
I couldn’t stop staring at Cassio, who had his eyes locked on mine. Had he been watching me this entire time? I thought he was busy with that blonde girl he had been talking to almost all night.
“You should leave,” Vitelli said to his brother.
“So now you’re telling me what to do?”
“Haven’t you done enough?” he raised a hand to his nose and cursed when it came away bloody.
The two men came toward us, and Cassio stared me down, probably thinking about all the ways he could murder me. He wasn’t alone in that sentiment either. Anger boiled in my veins as I noticed the entire party had stopped to watch us. Cassio ran his fingers through his hair like nothing had happened.
“Come on, we are leaving,” he said, I didn’t move. “Francesca, come on; I’m taking you home.”
“I can call a taxi,” I said irritably.
I felt Marie’s and Vitelli’s eyes on us, but Cassio once more didn’t seem to be bothered. “God only knows what other kind of trouble you’re going to get yourself into.”
I clenched my jaw and dug my nails into my palms, he wasn’t going to expose me out here, was he? Cassio wasn’t that crazy… or he was. I didn’t know him anymore. Even when I did, he’d always had one less screw in his brain.
“Francesca,” Cassio bit out impatiently
It was useless to argue with him, and I was too shaken to do so. Instead, I kissed my friend goodbye and thanked Vitelli for the party. The couple watched us leave. My shoulders grew tense and my face hot as we passed through the crowd.
I felt a hand on my back twisting the fabric of my dress and pulling me back.
“You did nothing wrong, Francesca.” Cassio’s breath tickled my ear, causing a shiver to race down my back.
We walked toward the elevator, while all the guests stared at us, and Cassio walked leisurely while I wanted to be out of here as fast as possible. I felt their judging eyes on me, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment. When we finally reached the elevator, the car was already there.
We stood as far away as possible from each other inside the elevator, and I still didn’t understand why he was taking me home. The last time we talked—or exchanged words—Cassio didn’t seem inclined to be around me.
I didn’t judge him because the sentiment was reciprocated. I didn’t want to be around him even if it meant walking home, on my own, in the dark Chicago streets. I would risk that kind of danger over Cassio Moretti any day.
“Do you ever wear clothes, or do you simply forget them?” he asked, tone detached, but I knew he was looking for a fight.
“Do you ever behave, or do you like beating the shit out of people for kicks?”
“Do you kiss your mamma with that mouth?”
Cassio didn’t know about my mamma, still, the jab hit my guts and it became hard to breathe inside the small car, where his scent circled the air, giving me no choice but to breathe him in.
“Are you always a mess, or just when you’re desperate for attention or drugs?”
“Fuck you, Cassio.”
As soon as the doors opened, I marched out and walked away with no direction in mind, but anywhere away from him was a victory. Cassio wanted a fight, but I wasn’t in the mood. Not after what happened.
Before I noticed what was happening, Cassio spun me around and pressed my body against the wall. He didn’t give me a chance to escape as he caged me in, one hand above my head and the other next to my neck.
I sucked in a deep breath and regretted it the second his citrus and sandalwood scent filled my nose. He was too close. His strong unrelenting body was dangerously pressed against mine, and I could feel the volts of electricity cursing through his veins.
Cassio was alive.
“Don’t piss me off right now, Francesca.” His hot breath touched my skin, tickling my cheeks. “Because if you push me, I’ll fight back.”
In my drunken haze, mixed with the cigarette which had lowered my blood pressure, my mind ceased to function. It gave me the kind of courage I did not usually possess. It awakened something in me that only came to life when he was near. Cassio was pissed—well, his bad because so was I.
“Or what, Cassio?” I snapped, pushing against his unyielding chest. Why was it so hard? Cassio didn’t give an inch. “I’m not afraid of you.”
His smile was pure venom. “You’re not very smart, are you, Principessa?”
“Don’t call me that, Cassio,” I snapped, pushing him once more.
“Or what, Principessa?” he taunted.
“You’re no better than Gianluca,” the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.
I instantly regretted them. I wasn’t the kind of person who needed to hurt others in order to feel better about myself. Cassio stepped away turning his back on me.
My apology was stuck in my throat, and I couldn’t utter it. So instead, I swallowed it down. I was tired of being treated that way, of men thinking they could do whatever they pleased just because I was physically weaker than them.
I stood there unsure if he was still going to take me home, and when I finally regained my composure, I found Cassio standing by his black sports car. He waited outside the driver’s door.
“Get in the car,” he ordered.
I did not want to prolong this any further, so I did get in the car. Cassio followed soon after. The silence that surrounded us was so uncomfortable I couldn’t stop fidgeting, turning my rings repeatedly, and digging my nail into the palms of my hand. Cassio didn’t look like a man who was easily offended, but I had managed to do so.
I might still hate him for what he did all those years ago, but I wasn’t this person. I couldn’t be mean, not even to him, and I hated that most of all. I was sure Cassio wouldn’t have apologized.
“The words just slipped out,” I said after a while.
“I’ll take your apology.”
I held the urge to roll my eyes. “It’s an explanation, Cassio, not an apology.”
“Whatever.” He kept on driving.
After a while, as my nerves settled, so did the adrenaline, and my hands began to shake. Cassio stared at them for a while and heated up the car but it had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with what happened.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Your house, where else?”
“Can you drop me somewhere else?”
“I’m not your chauffeur, Francesca.”
Didn’t seem like that given it was the second time he was taking me home. “There’s a diner near my place just drop me there.”
Cassio stared at me like I had spoken to him in some other language. “No.”
I fisted my hands and begged for patience. Instead of fighting, which I knew he still wanted to, I offered him the truth. “I can’t go home right now.”
He stared at me, his green arctic eyes breaching through my walls and reading with clarity what was written all over me. I didn’t want to be alone. That was the truth. Not after what happened tonight.
Cassio didn’t utter a word as he drove through Chicago until we reached a massive skyscraper. He drove into the garage and parked the car in a designated spot. Unsure what to do and slightly conscious of myself, I opened the door and waited for him.
The elevator led us to the twenty-fifth floor, every second in there with him was excruciating. I kept wondering why I put myself in these situations. Tonight, I couldn’t even blame it on the drugs. Although I had drunk more than a normal person should, I was sober now. As sober as I could be. This was all my fault.
What was I doing here? I should have asked Cassio to drop me at my place and be done with the night. With him. Cassio had made it clear that he didn’t want to see me, and I didn’t want to see him. So why were we here?
Once the doors opened, he removed a key card and swiped through his door. He opened it for me, and I stepped inside, clutching my purse for dear life, as if it could shield me from him. I was so out of place, it hurt.
If Cassio had noticed, which I knew he did, he said nothing, he allowed me to explore, but I remained there, like a statue. “Come,” he said after a while.
He led me through the massive living room—which was at least thrice the size of my entire apartment. I followed him up a set of stairs and through a corridor. He stopped at the third door to the right and turned to face me.
His expression was hard to read, but I could see his shoulders were tense and his eyes were colder than they naturally were. He was not pleased.
“You can stay here tonight. There are towels in the bathroom if you need any.” He spoke through clenched teeth. If it bothered him so much, why was he doing this? “Don’t ever mention this, do you understand?”
“Trust me, I won’t.”
“Good because this is the last time I will save you, Francesca.” With that he turned and walked away. I watched until he disappeared at the end of the corridor.
My room was clean and spacious, my bed alone was large enough to fit a family. The room was decorated in tons of white and gray, making it look cold and impersonal. Despite that, it was beautiful, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered me a view of Lake Michigan.
After wiping away my make-up and tying my hair into a bun, I stood by the window, watching the city outside. Once again, it struck me that I was in Cassio Moretti’s apartment.
Why had he brought me here? Why had I accepted it? I didn’t want to be alone right now, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be with him. In fact, Cassio was the last person I should be with.
It was for one night, and one night only. Now that I was back in Chicago and my best friend was dating his brother, I was bound to see him. It was best we dealt with this like adults.
There was no point in pretending we liked each other. One of us would have to cave and be the adult here, and it looked like it would have to be me. Only because I didn’t want to be miserable every time we saw each other.
I left the room, heading toward his. I was about to knock on the door when courage failed me. Then I lifted my hand and knocked once, twice, and was about to do so a third time when the door opened.
My knees wobbled, and my eyes had a hard time focusing on his face. Cassio stood before me half-naked, his chest on display. I stared and… stared. It was hard. He was hard, his chest was. I mean his packs… he had six of them and a V muscle that slipped into his pants. His skin was tanned… golden like he had spent all of his summer in Capri, sunbathing.
I was rambling in my head, but he was so… juicy. I had seen Paolo shirtless countless times, but he had been pale and pouchy. The only other comparisons had been the men from Hollywood movies, and Cassio could easily be one of them.
And that tattoo. Right on his left pectoral, a small writing in cursive which I couldn’t read given the dimness of the light. Was it hot in here? I was certainly sweating.
“You’re drooling, Principessa.”
“No, I’m not.” I finally managed to look into his eyes and saw a flicker of heat.
“You are.” He crossed his arms and flexed his muscles. I narrowed my eyes realizing he was doing it on purpose.
“I. Am. Not.”
“Then what’s that trailing down your chin?” Like an idiot, I reached to wipe it off, but there was nothing there.
My cheeks blazed, and I forgot what I’d come here to do. Instead, I turned around and ran back to my room. Locked the door and hit my head against it.
“Great, Francesca,” I cursed. “You did great.”