Page 85 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

I had so many questions, yet if he demanded to take me into a room right now, I feared I’d go. More than willingly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Áine,” Cassio said, telling me without words he wouldn’t easily be dissuaded from the lunch date he set. It wasn’t hard to guess that Cassio King got whatever he set his mind on and his mind was set to having lunch with me.

“Good night,” I muttered.

Only fight the battles worth winning, Jack’s voice echoed in my brain. I guess it was good that my stepfather… no, my father was a mobster and I had learned quite a number of things from him since my mother married him. He might not have involved me in any of his business but I learned a thing or two.

Each move I made and the words I uttered would be used wisely. With the purpose of sending the King empire crumbling to ashes. If Cassio and Luca were part of that empire, they would crumble.

If they weren’t… Well, then I’d be married to Cassio King until death do us part. And somehow the thought didn’t repulse me at all.

I watched his back as he walked away from me and I had to admit, it was as nice as his front.Sexy backshouted in my brain, along with the notes of the song of the same name, and I mentally facepalmed my forehead. At this rate, I would need Dr. Taylor for more than my nightmares.

Turning my attention back to my cousin, I found her looking at me. “What?” I asked a bit annoyed.

Her lips curved into a smile. “Nothing. I’m game for a sleepover.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later,Margaret and I walked into the lobby of my glass building in the heart of New York City. The entire building was made of windows. Two years ago, when I first walked by this building, I was impressed.

The second I walked into the lobby, I was awed, but once I entered the apartment, I decided I wanted to stay here forever. I loved my apartment and though I had no idea who owned the building, there were only a few tenants living here. We all knew each other, and though everyone was nice, we all kept to ourselves.

I had argued with Mom and Jack since my last year of college about moving out and living alone. No city, no neighborhood, no building was ever too safe.

Well, this one was. It was as if someone designed it just for me. The building security was tight, every glass window was bulletproof and visitors were screened. And when I say screened, I meant background check, go through a metal detector and all that crazy stuff. But it worked. Jack and Mom finally, although reluctantly, agreed to let me move out of their mansion.

“Hello Mr. Maurizio,” I greeted the doorman once in the lobby. As long as I lived here, there wasn’t a day that he didn’t work. He was older, about fifty, and very pleasant. His warm brown eyes and always ready smile made him appear very friendly although I was certain that he could be deadly too. He always wore a suit and a gun holster. In the beginning, I found it odd and slightly off putting, but I got used to it. Considering all the crime that happens in the city, it made sense that he would be armed.

“Miss Evans.” He tilted his head. “How are you this evening?”

I loved hearing his Italian accent. It was smooth and pleasant to the ear. I recalled the first time Jack and Mom came to visit. Jack wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me moving to start with, but once he heard Mr. Maurizio’s accent, he was downright against it. It took my mother to calm him down.

“Good, thank you.”

The owner of the building was private, and we never saw him, but he occupied the entire top floor of this building. My apartment was right below it. Ignoring the elevator, I strode to the staircase.

“Stairs again, I see,” Margaret muttered behind me.

“Always,” Mr. Maurizio and I answered at the same time, then shared a glance.

Climbing the stairs, two at the time, we got to my floor.

“You know,” Margaret breathed heavily behind me. “I won’t be able to climb the stairs when I’m round as a pumpkin.”

I chuckled. She was right of course. I’d have to think of something. Or she’d take the elevator with the baby while I took the stairs. Whatever works. Once on my floor, I punched in the code and entered my little slice of heaven. It was always the same. The beauty of it was spellbinding. It felt like home, cozy andmine. Just mine. It was my sanctuary.

I crossed the hardwood floors towards the kitchen. On the opposite side of the living room stretched a glass wall with the views of the city. The views stunned me every single time, and I couldn’t help flick a glance its way. The rush of the city was evident, and I knew it was loud but none of the city buzz could be heard here.

I strode to the kitchen with its granite countertops and professional grade appliances. Truthfully, with my work schedule and my little side business to eliminate trafficking, I barely had time for a domestic life. Though I enjoyed cooking very much.

The hardwood floor went through the entire apartment, including the three guest bedrooms and bathrooms. The living room had a brick fireplace, giving it a cozy feeling. My furniture was mostly white with the exception of my bedroom that had mahogany wood that matched the hardwood but all the linen was white.

“Want some juice?” I asked Margaret as I poured myself a glass of white wine.

She groaned. “This is the first juice offering instead of wine.”

“But it’s for a good reason,” I offered with a smile. She took the glass of her juice as I sat next to her onto the couch. “What a night, huh?”

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