Chapter 6

CASSANDRA'S POV~

The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, the tension so thick that even the air around us seemed to be holding its breath. Adriano's rage was palpable, and I fought hard not to cower under his intense gaze.

Why was he so angry that he got to know I was dating? Was he actually insane? It was on the tip of my tongue to suggest he go see a psychiatrist, when suddenly, that wicked grin crept onto his lips.

"So long as you haven't said 'I do' to this boyfriend of yours," he drawled, his voice confident and sure, "then I still have a chance."

"I'm a patient man," he continued, his eyes gleaming with an almost predatory light. "And I always get what I want, darling. So, whether it takes a week, a month, or even a year, I'll keep trying until you say yes."

I gaped at him, my mouth hanging open in shock. He was arrogant, infuriating, and completely insane. And yet, despite myself, I couldn't deny that his brazen confidence was strangely alluring.

Shit! Cassandra stop! There was absolutely nothing alluring about this dangerous, cruel man in front of me.

"You are shameless, absolutely shameless!" I exclaimed, taking a few steps back from Adriano. "I'll never be with you, no matter what. Never!" The words came out in a rush, my face flushing with anger.

Adriano, however, seemed utterly unfazed by my outburst. With an evil grin still playing on his lips, he stood, his movements slow and predatory. My heart pounded in my chest as he began to approach me, and I braced myself for the worst.

As his hand rose, my eyes widened in terror, convinced that he was going to snap my neck in two. But just as I was about to scream, his hand landed not on my neck, but on my purse, which he unceremoniously yanked open.

"Hey!" I protested, but he ignored me, rummaging through my belongings with a single-minded determination.

Finally, he unearthed my phone and, to my utter bewilderment, flashed it in front of my face.

"Face authentication, huh?" he drawled, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "Well, let's just change that, shall we?" Without waiting for a response, he keyed in his number, his fingers flying across the screen with alarming speed.

I watched, my jaw dropping open as he finished entering his information and then, with the smuggest grin imaginable, held my phone up in front of me. "There," he declared. "Now, you have my number. Call me anytime."

When I refused to take the phone, Adriano frowned, and took the device back, double-checking his number as if my refusal had offended him personally.

"I'll call, and you better pick up," he declared, shoving the phone back into my hand with surprising gentleness. "If you don't, I'll come back with an entire army next time. And don't even think about hiding from me. I'll track you down to the ends of the earth if I have to."

I scoffed, refusing to dignify his threats with a response.

Adriano took a step forward, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I couldn't help but shiver as his warm breath caressed my cheek.

"Take care of yourself, love," he whispered, his voice a seductive purr. "I'll be quite upset if I hear you're overworking yourself. And I expect to hear from you soon."

With those words, he straightened, shooting me one last smoldering glance before turning on his heel and exiting the room.

I waited until the door clicked shut behind him, and then I exhaled a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding in. My knees felt weak, and my heart still raced from the encounter.

"This guy," I muttered to myself, shaking my head in disbelief. "He's more of a headache than a patient. And he wants me to call him? Yeah, right. I'll call him when pigs fly." I quickly switched off my phone, determined to ignore his calls if they ever came.

~ ~ ~

As I approached my home, my feet ached with fatigue after a long day at the hospital. My house was a quaint little thing, brick, with a white front door and a picket fence surrounding it. But something was off. The door was locked, the windows shut tight, as if someone had barricaded the place. And there, wedged under the front door, was a piece of paper.

"What on earth?" I muttered, bending down to retrieve it. The paper turned out to be a letter, the handwriting unmistakably my mother's.

"Dear daughter," the letter read. "By the time you read this, I'll be long gone, off to a better place where I can finally relax. Where we can finally relax.”

My eyes widened in disbelief. Was this some kind of joke?

"It's a much better Villa and I assure you this is a quick decision and the best I've taken so far." the letter continued. "You can join me if you'd like, though I think you don't have a choice, haha, you can barely enjoy living alone for a bit."

"A better Villa?!” I exclaimed, rereading the letter with growing frustration.

A Villa?!!

Was my mother out of her mind?

Just like that, my world had been upended. The mother I'd spent most of my life living with had apparently up and left, taking off to a new house and neighborhood without so much as a phone call or a warning. She might as well have been abducted by aliens for how surreal this felt.

I let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Well, at least she didn't forget to leave a note," I muttered sarcastically. "That's something, I guess."

~ ~. ~

The moment I climbed into the taxi, I clutched the letter, seething. I directed the driver to the address, only to be shocked by the towering villa that awaited me. "This can't be it," I muttered in disbelief.

I moved from door to door, hunting for the right number, only to find myself back at the villa. The number on the wall matched the one on the letter. "You have got to be kidding me," I muttered, my heart pounding in my chest. "This isn't happening. This is not happening."

Suddenly, the gate buzzed open with a loud whirr.

My mother, Belinda, burst through the gate like a child let loose in a candy store. "Oh my goodness, Cassandra!" she exclaimed, scooping up my purse from where it had fallen on the ground. "You should see the pool, and the jacuzzi, and the tennis court...and the kitchen! Oh my goodness, the kitchen!"

Her enthusiasm was infectious, but all I could do was stare, my mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. "Mom," I managed to choke out, "we… do we live here? Really?"

"Mom," I asked, my voice sounding faraway and dreamy, "did you suddenly win the lottery or something? Did you sell your organs on the black market?"

Mom swatted at my arm with a gasp. "Cassandra, no! Why would you even think that?" She chuckled, but I was still suspicious.

"Then how did you afford this?" I pressed.

"A mysterious tycoon bought the land, and this house was a gift for us!" Mom gushed. "It's all completely legal, I have the papers to prove it!"

As I stood there, blinking like an owl trying to comprehend daylight, my mind was racing. "So, let me get this straight," I said, my voice shaky. "Some anonymous person just decided to buy our old house and then give us this—this palace—as a gift? Just out of the goodness of their heart?"

Mom nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. "Can you believe it, Cassandra? It's like a fairy tale come true!"

I stared at her, then at the villa, then back at her. The heck!

"Wait!" my mother exclaimed, her face suddenly panicked. "I left something on the stove. Don't move!" And with that, she turned on her heel and raced inside, leaving me standing there like a deer in headlights.

"Mom?" I called out, but she had already vanished inside the mansion, leaving me to wonder if I had stumbled into some alternate reality.

And then it hit me—Adriano. With a jolt, I realized that I was in possession of his phone number, and he might still be tracking me down.

I scrambled around on the ground, looking for my purse like a chicken searching for its missing chick. Finally, I spotted it lying on the ground, where my mother had tossed it in her excitement. I snatched it up and pulled out my phone, my hands trembling.

"You're not calling him," I scolded myself, shaking my head. "Absolutely not." But as I stared down at the phone, my resolve wavered. After all, I was in way over my head.

What if he wasn't the tycoon who had decided to buy a villa for us? Or worse, what if he indeed was the one?

Without wasting time, I dialed for his number and waited for him to pick.