Chapter 8
Carissa
In the morning, I stretch, feeling the delicious ache between my thighs. Last night can only be described as decadent with a dash of depravity. Every moment was amazing. I’ve never felt like this before, not even close. I didn’t realize sex could be so mind blowing.
As I turn over, my gaze catches on Marcus as he comes out of the bathroom. He’s fully dressed in an expensive suit, clean shaven, hair styled.
“Good morning,” I murmur with a smile.
Instead of returning the greeting, he pins me with a cold, hard stare that instantly cools my blood. There’s a frigid shift in the atmosphere between us.
“I took the liberty of finding you some clothing. Wear this.” He tosses a retail bag on the bed, then walks out of the room.
For a moment, I’m frozen in shock. No hello, no morning kiss, nothing to indicate we had a wonderful night together. Who is this cold man? Where’s the version of him that I had last night?
Disappointment settles deep in my gut. Maybe I was wrong about him. I swallow hard, frowning. Maybe he just wanted a one night stand, and like most men, would say and do anything to get it. Now it’s morning and he’s had his fill of me. Time to go.
Miranda warned me about men like him. I guess I didn’t listen.
I blink back the tears in my eyes. I should have seen this coming. I’m not usually this na?ve. Am I?
Feeling absolutely crushed, I swallow down the morning after pill on the nightstand and tug on the underwear, bra, and dress that Marcus left.
They are very nice, but I know it’s not meant as a sweet gesture.
It’s a means to get me out of his house as quickly as possible, since my own dress was ruined.
He’s a killer.
Right. I should be grateful he’s letting me leave at all.
Obviously, every word he uttered last night was a lie, a means to an end. I’m just astounded by the lengths this man went through to fuck me.
What an asshole.
After freshening up in his bathroom, I find my heels and purse.
Out of habit I check my messages. There’s a whole slew of them from Miranda.
Miranda: Marcus said the restaurant lost his reservation. They won’t let him in.
Miranda: Are you there? I’m just going to give you his number. Call him. You can meet someplace else.
I frown at the texts. The restaurant didn’t lose his reservation. He was right there. We spent all of last night together.
Now all I want to do is get out of here. I’ll call Miranda later and tell her what an asshole my blind date turned out to be.
Putting my phone away, I go downstairs. Marcus is in the kitchen. He shoots me an uninterested glance as I walk in, on my way to the front door.
My disappointment and shame are momentarily replaced with anger because of his dismissive behavior. I know I should hold my tongue. I mean I witnessed him slit a guy’s throat last night and not bat an eye. But I’m just so… furious.
I face him. “Look, Marcus—”
“Gio.”
“What?” I blink at him.
He leans casually against the marble island. “My name is Gio. Giovanni Casella.”
Casella. The name rings in my ears. My stomach plummets to my feet and I’m either going to pass out or vomit.
A cruel grin twists his lips. “That’s right. You know my name. I’m the man to whom your father owes fifty grand.”
I suck in a much needed breath of air, but it doesn’t help. The entire evening crashes through my head. Every second of it was a lie. A set up. All the questions were just prying information out of me.
He’s not Marcus. He’s Giovanni Casella. A dangerous mafia man.
I should run but my feet refuse to cooperate. He’s caught me. This game’s over.
My voice comes out raw at the edges. “Are you going to let me go, or kill me for my father’s debts? That’s why you sought me out, isn’t it? To use me against my father?”
His cold facade briefly cracks. Beneath it, ever so fleetingly, I think I see a flash of guilt. Then it’s gone. His handsome face could be chiseled in granite.
Gio pins me with a stony stare, fists clenched at his sides. “Run, tesoro. Run while you can, because I can’t make you any promises.”
Heart in my throat, I do as he says. I bolt from his house and don’t stop running until my feet blister and freely bleed.
“Father!” I call out as I let myself into our apartment. There was no need to shout, as I find him passed out on the couch. “Father?” I desperately shake him. He groans, but won’t wake up.
Pulse thundering in my ears, I head into my bedroom and grab a suitcase. Without much thought or planning behind it, I shove a random mix of clothes and toiletries into the case.
“Father, we have to leave. Right now.” Of course he doesn’t answer. Panic gnaws at me.
Once my suitcase is full, I grab a bag for him and pack it with his belongings. We don’t have much. No money stash. No real valuables.
If we really run, I’m going to lose my job, because surely Gio knows where I work and he’ll hunt me down there. I can’t risk that. We have to completely disappear. That means being homeless for a while.
Crushing defeat threatens to overwhelm me, but I can’t let it. We don’t have time for that. Later. I’ll deal with my emotions later.
Back in the cramped main room, I shake my father again until he cracks his eyes open.
“What’s going on?” he slurs. “Leave me alone.”
“I can’t. You have to get up. We need to leave right this minute.” I tug at his arm, but he won’t budge.
“I need a beer.” He closes his eyes again.
I manage to get under his arm and try to haul him to his feet, but he’s too heavy. If he won’t cooperate, and sober up, we’re not going anywhere.
“Please, get up. Please,” I beg him as I collapse to the floor. A sob tears from my throat.
I should go, but I can’t leave him. Gio will come here and kill my father to collect that debt. If I stay, he’ll most likely murder me too. But what choice do I have?
I can’t call the cops. Gio might tell them how I witnessed a murder and decided to do nothing. Doesn’t that make me an accessory or something?
We can’t stay here. I can’t run. Not without my dad. Tears blur my vision.