Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Cristiano 

This was going to be the last time I would be in a place like this. I told myself that numerous times as I stepped into the dimly lit booth of the nightclub. The air in the booth was thick with the scent of leather, weed, expensive whiskey, and the soft hum of conversation that couldn't be said in the open. My eyes scanned the place, already regretting the decision to leave the comfort of my home—my so-called honeymoon—for this meeting.

Ricardo, my right-hand man, had insisted that I handled it personally. Giovanni had been stirring trouble again, going after every one of my clients, and spreading threats to scare them for partnering with me. Normally, I would have let it slide and dealt with it at my convenience, but this time was different. Mr. Cassano was a major client, and he was close to pulling out of our deal because of Giovanni’s constant intimidation. Ricardo wasn’t up to the task of reassuring Mr. Cassano that all will be well, so here I was.

I stepped into the private booth, where the older man was already seated. There was a cautious smile tugging at his lips as he rose to greet me. The salt-and-pepper hair on his head was neatly combed back, and the lines of aging were evident on his face, more obvious than the last time I had seen him. I wondered briefly if it was the stress of dealing with Giovanni that had aged him so much, but who cares? Not me.

“Mr. Morano,” he greeted, extending his hand.

I took it firmly, locking my eyes with his. “This will be the last time I’m in a place like this, Mr. Cassano. You must’ve heard I’m married now?”

He laughed nervously. “That’s precisely why I demanded to see you, Cristiano. Marriage or not, business comes first, eh?”

I sat down on the plush leather couch, sinking into its softness. Oh goodness, I wondered how I used to be so comfortable being here. Right now, all I wanted to get this meeting over with. “There’s nothing to worry about, Mr. Cassano,” I said in a calm but firm voice. “You shouldn’t be scared when you’ve got my backing.”

Cassano sighed, reaching out for the bottle of whiskey on the table between us. He poured two glasses, offering one to me. I didn’t reach for it immediately. His hand trembled slightly as he took a sip from his glass, and I noticed the way his eyes darted to the door, as if expecting Giovanni himself to burst in at any moment.

“I know you’re capable of protecting me,” he said after a moment, placing his glass back down. “But I would rather not be involved from the start, you understand? Giovanni… he’s relentless. I don’t want to become collateral damage in whatever war is brewing between you two.”

I leaned back in my seat, finally curling my fingers around the glass he had offered. I took a slow sip, letting the burn of the alcohol settle in my throat before replying. “I’ll understand if you’re scared and can’t continue with the deal. Just know, from today, you’ll be my enemy if you back out.” My voice lowered, taking on the cold aura I used when I wanted to make a point. “And you know exactly how far I’ll go to torment those who go against me.”

Cassano let out a nervous laugh, and his smile started to twitch. “Oh no, Cristiano, I wouldn’t dream of crossing you. I just… I need something to hold on to. Some reassurance that this partnership is still worth the risk.”

I raised an eyebrow, already seeing where he was going with this. “Something like what?” I asked, my voice coming out calmer despite the irritation bubbling within me.

Cassano smiled, the greed in his eyes evident as he spoke. “A 10% increase on my end of the profit share. Just a little something to make up for the trouble, you understand?”

I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “But that would make us equals, Mr. Cassano. Surely, you don’t think that’s fair?”

The old man chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Come on now, Cristiano. I promised my twin daughters a vacation this summer, and the extra income would go a long way.”

“Greedy old man,” I said with a smirk. Cassano’s laugh followed, but I could see the desperation in his eyes.

Still, I didn’t need the money. Not like him. And keeping him on my side for now was more important than pushing back on a small percentage. “Alright then,” I said after a moment. “If that’s what it takes, I’ll let you off this once.”

Cassano’s eyes gleamed in relief. He practically jumped to shake my hand, grinning ear to ear. “I knew we would come to an agreement,” he said. “It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, Cristiano.”

We shook hands again, sealing the deal, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to relax. This was just another transaction, another loose end tied up. But then Cassano, ever the opportunist, had one more card to play.

“I prepared a little something to commemorate our deal,” he said with a sly grin, licking his lips in a way that made my stomach turn. He clapped his hands twice, and the red curtains in the room parted.

Two women entered, both were slim, and they were in nothing but black lingerie and heels. Their movements were slow and deliberate, as if they had been trained for moments like this—which they are. One had her long black hair tied into a tight ponytail, exposing her sharp facial features. The other was blonde, her curls bouncing down her shoulders as she walked toward Cassano who had a pleased smile on his lips.

I had no interest in them. These types of “gifts” were common in my line of work, but I had made it clear to myself that I wouldn't be involved anymore. Or so I thought. Would one last time be that bad? She wouldn't even find out. Even if she did, what was she capable of doing? Refusing outright in front of Cassano would make things complicated. He expected me to play along, to indulge in his generosity as a sign of our partnership.

The woman with the ponytail approached me, her eyes never locked with mine as she straddled my lap. She placed her hands on my chest, leaning in close enough for me to feel the heat of her breath on my neck. Her perfume was strong, overwhelming, and it was challenging to fight the urge to push her off.

I didn’t want to be here. Not with this woman, not in this place. My mind was already drifting back to Annalisa, to the little moments we had shared together that were even more intimate than having the real action. No, this wasn’t who I was anymore. 

But her hands trailing down my chest and further down to my abs were sending wrong signals to my body.