Chapter 2

Cassie POV

I ignored the feeling of being watched, knowing that it was too late to run now. There was no running away from someone like Vasilios. Even the first time had been a bitch of a task, and I'd had Eliana and Yvonne's help to do it. Now, I was as good as alone and there was no fucking way I'd manage it.

“Whiskey, neat,” I heard his voice like silk, as he gave his order to Jessie.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as he leant casually against the bar, his eyes glued on a pair of ladies who were dancing seductively against each other.

“Yes, sir,” Jessie replied, and I swear she used her arms to push her gigantic breasts together, trying to entice him.

Only the Vasilios I remembered was impossible to entice. He was practically a walking, talking statue, trained from the moment he turned eighteen to be the alpha he was born to be. Not that he was alpha yet - although, a lot can happen in three years, so perhaps he had in fact become alpha in the time I was away.

No. Eliana or Yvonne would have told me.

He grunted his thanks as he threw a hundred on the bar and walked away, leaving behind a nearly swooning Jessie.

“Oh my,” she muttered under her breath, tapping me with the back of her hand. “I swear my panties just soaked through.”

I suppressed a gag at the thought and thanked all the shooting stars out there that there were enough sweaty bodies to drown out the scent of her arousal. That would have been my tipping point.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Vasilios nodded to another man who then followed him out of the club and into the darkness. It was only then that I released the breath I had been holding.

Maybe he didn't recognise me.

I clung to that thought for the rest of the evening, slowly convincing myself that there is no way he would be able to recognise me now. I had changed too much since I arrived in New York. My golden tipped brunette hair had been dyed black, and I had acquired lean muscles from my pole dancing career that previous me would be envious of. I'd even changed the way I did my makeup to suit my new hair colour and persona.

There was no way he recognised me.

By the time I slipped my key into my apartment door, I was certain of that.

My apartment was the only place I let the old me free, embracing my love for vibrant colours and classy touches. It was an expression of my true passion - interior design. Although it was just a studio apartment, where a french screen separated my bedroom from the open planned lounge/kitchen, it was the only place I felt like home in this shitty city.

I dropped down on the weathered couch I'd covered with a turquoise throw to hide the torn upholstery, and pulled out my phone, checking the time.

“9am in Italy, she will definitely be awake,” I whispered to myself before I dialled Eliana.

“Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to reach you for hours! Do you know how worried I have been? You could have been lying dead in a ditch for all I knew!” Elle answered the phone with a class A mom-lecture.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” I replied, truly feeling rather guilty for not at least messaging her when I saw her missed calls. “I was so busy at work that I didn't get a chance to look at my phone.”

Elle huffed on the other side of the phone but I could tell a lot of her anger had diffused. “Are you telling me that you didn't have a single moment to spare, while you were decorating some rich lady's house, to pick up your phone and call your best friend back?”

Guilt. Again with the guilt. This time, because my best friend in the entire world still believed the lie I had told her - that I had taken the New York socialites by storm with my interior design skills.

It had all started so innocently, with me trying to make her and Yvonne feel better with their part that they had played in my move. My first job had been as a waitress in a crummy diner on the wrong side of town. Eliana had remembered her own experience as a waitress and had caved, sending me more money than I could have ever earned in a month.

It was a sweet gesture, but I couldn't let it be a repeat action, no matter how many technical holes Eliana had forced the money through before it got to me. It would have been picked up at some point by Elle's mate and husband, Luca - who just so happened to be Vasilios's best friend forever.

In short, to stop her from feeling sorry for me, I lied and told her that I got an internship at a design company. It just snowballed from there.

“I'm sorry, it was just a crazy day. But I'm calling you back now,” I said gently, hoping to placate her.

I heard her sigh on the other end of the phone. “Fine, you're forgiven. But I was frantically calling you for a reason. Vasilios told Luca that he's going to America to find you and bring you back.”

“What?!” The word shot out of my mouth like a bullet.

“You heard me,” Elle replied, and I could almost picture her hand resting on her hip in her go-to mommy lecture position. “Vasilios called Luca and said his men had discovered where you were and that he was going to fetch you. He said you were working in some club though, so I'm pretty sure you've still got some time but it won't be long before he's on your tail.”

“He has some nerve. I ran away for a reason. It was bad enough that we were forced to marry each other even though he clearly didn't want to be with me. Sure, we're mates, but he made it pretty clear that he didn't want a hybrid for a mate and would have rejected me if his father and my father weren't forcing our union. And then, to make things worse, he disappears the moment the ceremony was over, leaving me to face the congratulations from the pack alone while he goes to his clubs, only to come back when the sun was rising, covered in lipstick.”

Eliana knew the story, she had been there when I'd returned to university after the wedding, broken. My emotions had been in turmoil, feeling trapped in a marriage with a man who didn't even want to touch me, let alone love me. I was nothing more than a possession, a pretty little accessory for him to pack away when he didn't feel like playing with me. I felt like I had no choice but to run away, and get as far from Vasilios as I possibly could.

Four years. I just needed four years of no contact with him for me to be able to appeal to the council to disolve our marriage. And his showing up in New York definitely put a spanner in those plans.

“Shit! I can't believe he's found me!” I muttered into the phone as I threw my head back and closed my eyes, feeling a headache coming on.

“You knew it would happen some day…”

Elle's words died as I heard giggling in the background and a cute toddler voice squealed “papà!” meaning that her mate, Luca, had obviously just entered the room.

“Anyway, Yvonne, I'll call you in the week. Luca promised he was going to take me to breakfast at the marina. Love you, and keep safe! And pick up your damned phone next time!”

With those parting words, Eliana cut the call. It was a bloody miracle Luca didn't suspect how often we actually spoke. He would probably have a heart attack if he knew considering how he and Vasilios were best friends.

I sighed and pressed my temples in a feeble attempt to chase away the headache.