Chapter 32

32

Cass

C ole doesn't seem very concerned about Eli catching us together, so I'm not either.

After all, he can't tell my father he walked in on me and Cole fucking without admitting to seeing me naked. The man isn't that stupid.

Eli's casino problem actually turned out to be pretty damn urgent, and he swears he had nothing to do with it.

"So, the third shift restaurant and custodial staff decided tonight would be a great time to go on strike," Eli says as we wait for the elevator outside the penthouse. He hands Cole a stack of documents two inches thick.

"Do you think Dante knew that when he left?" Cole asks. He looks so handsome and normal in his black pants and blue button down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tan, muscular forearms. He's like a Ken doll who can dress up in a multitude of outfits and still look hot.

There's goofy, frat-bro Ken, serious-businessman Ken, kinky, masked-man Ken, and now ready-to-handle-shit Ken.

"If Dante knew they were going to strike, he didn't tell me. But it's possible he did know and is using this as a test," Eli explains. "Your job is to negotiate a settlement with them without costing Dante too much money, but without letting them continue to strike."

"Okay, so what is their current salary?" I ask while Cole flips through the stack of paperwork Eli gave him.

"That depends on the position," Eli replies. "Waitstaff are paid the least, no more than twenty an hour, and the chefs make about thirty."

"Thirty dollars an hour?" I repeat, my brow creasing as I do the mental math. "That's all? How do they afford to live on that much money?"

"Well, rich girl," Cole starts without looking up from his paperwork. "They have to budget, you know, only buy the shit they need like housing and food, then save up and pray that they don't have any emergencies until the next payday."

"What kind of emergency?"

"An emergency like their kid gets sick and has to go to the doctor," he answers.

"Don't they have medical insurance?" I ask. Eli snickers as he watches and listens to us discuss salaries after recently pulling Cole's dick out of me.

"Yeah, Cassie, they may have medical insurance. But that shit doesn't cover everything. There are copays and deductibles."

When I don't respond, Cole finally glances up. Seeing the look on my face he probably can tell that I don't know what either of those things are, which makes me feel like the idiot Eli called us. "Have you ever been to a doctor?"

"Whenever Sophie or Madison or I get sick, a doctor just shows up and checks us in the penthouse. "

"That's because you're rich as fuck," Cole says with a crooked smile just as the elevator doors finally open on the lobby floor. "The rest of us have to schedule an appointment to go into the doctor's office. The copay before you get to see the doctor could be fifty or a hundred and fifty dollars. Then, after the doc finishes the exam and does any blood tests or whatever, the office sends you a bill for what the insurance company won't cover or won't cover until you meet your deductible."

When I continue to stare at him, he says with a sigh, "A deductible is usually a few thousand dollars that a patient has to pay out of pocket before the insurance will step in and help with costs."

"Well, what's the point of having insurance if you still have to pay so much money out of pocket?" I ask as the three of us make our way to the front desk.

"That's the question everyone who has it wants to know," he grumbles. "The system in this country is fucked. And that's only an example of one type of emergency that could bring an unexpected expense to a middle-class working family."

Biting my lip, I start to drop it, but am too curious. "What are others?"

"Car trouble is a big one for those that can afford them. Cars are expensive. Most people make payments every month because they can't afford to buy a car for the full price. Then you have to have insurance on the car to drive it, get it inspected and pay taxes every year. If it breaks down and is not under warranty, then you have to pay whatever it costs to get a mechanic to fix it, which is never fucking cheap."

"Mechanics charge you for parts and labor, the time it takes them to work to fix it. A new transmission could cost a couple grand," Eli contributes.

"But it takes weeks for the employees here to make that kind of money," I can't help but point out.

"Exactly," Cole says. "It sucks to be poor. People treat you differently."

"How different?"

"Like you're trash," Eli offers.

"Were you and Vanessa treated like that?" I ask him.

"Constantly. But now I know why my mom never wanted to get promotions to management or take better-paying jobs. She was trying to maintain a low profile so nobody would notice her."

"She would rather live in poverty than have her father find her and you?"

"Yes," he answers as we come to a stop in front of the empty front desk. Guess those employees decided to strike too. "And I don't blame her. He was a monster. She didn't want me to have anything to do with Yuri. He would've probably taken me from her and raised me to be his protégé."

"So then if the mafia is so bad, why do you want to be my father's heir? It's not much different from being Yuri's."

"It's a million times different, Cassie," Cole mutters. "Your father doesn't kill people without a good reason. I'm glad he ended that asshole Mitch that my mom used to date, the one who got her into all the mess with the Russians. I had no idea they showed up at our apartment and beat her up. She didn't tell me, and I was in New York."

"What would you have done if you had known?"

"Fuck if I know. Kill Mitch to start with, I guess."

And since Cole killed two men, my former men, I don't doubt he would've done the same to protect his mother.

"Everyone must be out front," Eli says as he looks down at his phone. Security is on the way. You'll need them before we go out there."

Once four guards show up, we walk outside to where dozens of employees are picketing with their signs in their hands. I stand back and watch Cole work with Eli and the guards staying close to him. He finds the woman in charge of speaking on behalf of the casino workers, and they talk for maybe half an hour before she turns and tells everyone to go back to work, that all their demands will be met .

"Dante isn't going to be happy with you giving them everything they asked for," Eli remarks as they walk back over to me. "You're supposed to negotiate, not cave within minutes. This is going to cost him so damn much."

"It was my decision to make, right? While he's gone?" Cole asks, refusing to back down.

"Yes, but–"

"But nothing. I did what I thought was best. Just because giving them the raise and extra days off they asked for is not what Dante would've done doesn't mean it was the wrong thing to do."

"Guess we'll see what he says when he's back," I remark.

"God, I need a vacation," Eli groans as he scrubs his hands over his face, and we all head back inside the casino. "Maybe I can try to find Madison while I'm traveling."

"Why do you think that you can find her when dozens of PIs haven't had any luck?" Cole asks as we wait for the slow ass elevator.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asks looking at Cole like he's an idiot. "PIs don't use my interrogation techniques."

"Why haven't you used your interrogation techniques to find her before now?" I ask him.

"I was hoping Maddi-Madison would turn up before I left a trail of carnage all over the country."

"It's still weird that you called her Maddie," Cole points out.

"I can call people any fucking thing I want. And she was mad all the time, so it just made more sense to shorten Madison to—"

"Maddie," Cole and I both say at the same time we give each other a knowing look.

That's when a thought suddenly occurs to me. I've always assumed that Cole calls me Cassie just to annoy the shit out of me.

But maybe…maybe it's actually a pet name, like Eli calls Madison Maddie, and my dad calls Vanessa butterfly…

Cole

"Oh, I was thinking that we should each write up the events of the day after each of our shifts, you know, so we'll both be caught up on everything. And then we can give the reports to Dante when he gets back," I tell Cass when we're walking up the stairs to the third floor.

"That's…a good idea."

"Thanks," I reply. "And now we know for certain that Eli is going to be a pain in our asses all week," I remark when Cass and I are alone in her room once again. "Especially now that he knows we're fucking."

"No shit," she agrees as she starts to undress, and I do the same. Then she asks me the question I've been wondering. "Why do you think Eli would give my sister a pet name?"

"No clue." I smirk while unbuttoning the top of my shirt as the dirtiest thought occurs to me. "Unless Eli was fucking her." Imagining Madison and Eli together for even five seconds causes my smile to fall. "Hold up." I gesture with my thumb over my shoulder toward the closed, and now locked door. "Do you think that psycho is the reason Madison ran away?"

"Nah," Cass immediately responds without even taking a second to think about it. "Madison wanted to be free, to go off to college, and live on her own. She wouldn't have wasted a minute on a man who is infamous for his torture techniques."

"You wouldn't think so, but everyone has their kinks," I say with a grin.

"Is that right?"

"Yes."

"So, what are your kinks, Cole? Other than women pretending to be wives in need of your big, fat cock?"

Strolling proud and naked around her bed, I grab the back of her head, pulling her up against the front of my body, my dick sandwiched between our bare skin. "My kinks? Feisty redheads who can kick my ass and attempt to drown me in pools, obviously."

"Whatever," she says without the usual bite and a tiny grin because she likes my answer even if she won't admit it.

God, she's so damn stubborn. And I love that about her.

My lips capture hers, kissing Cass hard. When I pull back, still gripping her hair, I ask, "Your turn. What are your kinks, Cassie? Besides sneaking around with stupid men behind your father's back?"

"That is not a…I don't get off on that," she huffs, not the least bit convincing. I lift a single eyebrow ready to challenge that statement. "Well, maybe a little," she finally admits.

"Of course, you do. What else do you get off on?

"I guess you're pretty hot in a suit, especially when you're being a badass."

"Me? I'm a badass in a suit? I thought you said I was a nice guy." Now my grin is probably bigger than any of the ones on a toothpaste commercial, flashing the majority of my teeth since that's the best compliment I've ever received.

"You may try to be a nice guy most of the time, but you're not. Not really. You were a dick to the rat when you robbed her. You have killed two men, and would've killed your mom's boyfriend so I guess you're sort of a badass…"

"Ah, so hybristophilia is your thing," I tease her.

Brow creasing, Cass asks, "What the fuck is hybristophilia?"

"Being attracted to or aroused by hearing about or watching a crime take place."

"That's what that is?" she asks in surprise. "I can't believe that's even a thing. Is hybristophilia like...normal?"

I nod, happy that those things turn her on. "Oh, yeah. It's very normal for women, apparently." I slide my free hand down her bare back to cup her ass. "Something about evolutionary, primitive instincts women have toward powerful, dangerous, dominant men. The type of men who prove to women with their criminal behavior that they'll be able to protect them and their offspring." I lift her off her foot, and Cass automatically wraps her long legs around my waist and hooks her arms around my neck. I swear we fit together perfectly. We have since that day she jumped me in the pool. "Hybristophilia is probably why the masked man is so popular breaking in people's homes."

"Are you fucking with me?" Cass asks when we're face to face, our bodies nearly entirely pressed together.

"No, I'm not fucking with you. It's actually a legit thing. Look it up."

"Trust me, I am not aroused by your criminal behavior because I think it in any way proves that you could protect me or our kid," she huffs.

God, the words "our kid" coming out of Cass's mouth makes me rock hard, which is ridiculous. Pushing those idiotic thoughts aside, I lay her down on the bed and hover above her.

"Maybe it's more of a subconscious thing," I suggest.

"Doubtful."

"So, then why do you want me, Cassie?" I thrust my hardness between her legs, enjoying the way it makes her squirm.

"I-I don't know. Maybe you're right about how you're supposedly forbidden." Shoving her fingers through the sides of my hair, she gives it an impatient tug, wanting me to kiss her again. When I don't budge, she sighs. "And I guess you're attractive enough."

"What about me do you find attractive?"

"What about me do you find attractive? You go first."

"Fine." Leaning back, I examine the abundance of beauty before me while sliding my palm up her thigh. From the freckles scattered over her nose and cheeks to the cute ones hiding along her shoulder and even a few on her arms, they're like tiny kisses from the sun, because not even it could resist touching her. "Every fucking thing about you is attractive to me."

Cass scoffs. "That was a cop out response. Every woman has boobs and a pussy."

"I wasn't even looking at your boobs or pussy," I tell her honestly. "But yes, you're also incredibly sexy. Oh, and feisty. I like that you have your own opinions and don't back down no matter what. You're beautiful, would be even if you were bald. But with all that thick, wavy red hair, it makes my dick so hard to see it, touch it, smell it."

"Sounds like someone also has a hair kink," she replies with a smirk.

"No shit." I don't bother denying it. I just reach for a strand to curl it around my finger. If only convincing Cass to tell our parents about us was that easy.

"Why my hair?" she asks.

"Because it's impossible to see it and not think about wrapping the long red strands around my fist and pulling it when I'm fucking you from behind."

Now she actually frowns up at me. "So, you want to use my hair as a rein like I'm a fucking horse."

"Yes."

She rolls her pale green eyes. "That's ridiculous."

"Well, it's true. And now it's your turn. Why are you attracted to me? Other than my big dick and the fact that I'm ‘handsome enough.'" When she bites her lip in thought, but doesn't speak, I take a guess. "I bet you like my height."

She shrugs. "I guess being tall isn't unattractive."

Leaning down, I swipe my tongue up her neck, making her shiver. "Admit it, you like tall, physically imposing men who are bigger than you."

"Okay, fine."

"What else?" I ask, nipping at her shoulder.

"You're...pretty."

That has me rearing back to stare down at her. "Pretty?"

"Like more than handsome. Pretty. Your face is not feminine or anything. It's just perfectly symmetrical and you have nice eyes."

"Your pale green eyes are stunning," I reply, wanting to move away from her pretty comment. "They get darker when you're pissed off or when you're turned on."

"You've caused plenty of both emotions."

"True enough. Now what else?" I ask.

She nods to our lower bodies that are nearly joined. "You have a beautiful cock. It's big enough to let me know it's there without ripping me apart every time. Not too thick, or veiny. It's nice and smooth."

"You keep talking about my cock like that and you're gonna have to put your lips around it," I warn her. "And you haven't seemed inclined to suck me off since the time in the closet, despite your claim that you liked it."

Reaching down between us, she wraps her fingers around my hard shaft and gives it a squeeze, making my eyes close on a groan. "You mean the time that you blackmailed me into sucking your dick?"

"Yeah, that time," I reply softly, still regretting it.

"We both know I could've gotten up and left if I had wanted to," she remarks. "And I haven't done it again since that night not because I don't want to but because…because it would feel like I'm letting you win."

Gazing down at her, my eyes soften in understanding. "Is that why you like when I go down on you? Because you see it as beating me?" Cass shrugs again. "Trust me, Cassie, it's no hardship for me to lick your pussy. And when it comes to sex, I haven't been keeping score. As long as we both enjoy it, then we're both winning, right?"

"I guess so," she agrees.

Ready to end the conversation for now, I lower my lips to hers. When she's fully into our kiss, I slip my fingers between her legs finding her wet and ready for me.

She's always ready for me because she wants me more than she'll probably ever admit.

And by the end of this week, I hope she'll want me enough to tell our parents about us and come to New York with me in the fall.