AYLA
After the party two nights ago, I've decided I'm never going back to the Morettis'.
The back of my neck prickled as my fingers grazed the spot where his hands had been. I could still feel his grip on my skin.
It felt like a burning fire that wouldn't go out. His scent still lingered on my skin somehow.
I'm sure he'd seen Luciano slap my ass. I was sure of it.
My stomach tightened just thinking about him.
Shit! Ayla, you do not fall for men with cold black eyes and chocolate brown hair!
Stay focused!
I shouldn't think about him. Men like Cassian Moretti had history—bad ones that were buried beneath expensive suits and fake smiles.
After following him and ignoring Lady Moretti—believe me, that wasn't on purpose—I knew my stay at the Moretti's had finally come to a death call.
If I was going to avoid the temptation standing tall in a suit, then I had to stay fire, and put my college degree to work.
I had my resignation letter sent the moment I arrived home the next morning. I wasn't going back.
I glanced at the mail from one of the biggest real estate companies in Lake Como requesting an interview.
It felt surreal.
Perfect timing.
I tried to recall when I'd sent an application.
Last year? The year before that?
I shrugged off the questions. That didn't matter now.
This was the definition of 'one door closes, you look pretty and walk through another door'.
The email stated the pay was attractive. That was all I needed to know I was going for it. I needed all the money in the world right now to clear off the loan and dad's medical bills.
"Are you kidding me? Who the hell do these people think we are? A piece of shit?" Millie fumed, pacing the tiny space in our sitting room, in her Hello Kitty socks.
"Beats me too." I hissed from the sofa, eyes fixed on my laptop.
"And that fucking bastard Luciano even tapped your ass!"
I shook my head, "he slapped it." I corrected.
I know my words were doing some unsavory work on the images of these people in Millie's head but I didn't care.
"What?" Millie looked mortified. "These fucking rich bastards just know how to cross the line! I know you've got a fine ass, still, that's a violation of personal space."
"I know that." I said, my fickle mind drifting to the application I was filling out for the job interview.
"Are you okay?" Millie said, coming to sit beside me, "I can imagine how hard it was for you to have stayed without throwing a fist."
"How hard?" I blew air from my mouth. "I had a mental funeral for all of them." I said, brushing it aside.
I didn't want Millie to worry about me.
She had her own issues with her family and that old Martinez woman, constantly looking at Millie with those gold-digger eyes.
"I got an email for an interview on Monday." I announced, turning my laptop around for her to check the mail too.
"C-M HOLDINGS?" Millie said, narrowing her gaze, "What does the initial stand for?"
"Uhmmm," I thought, checking through the mail. "I honestly have no idea and the mail doesn't say anything about explaining its initials."
"I think you should check it out." Millie said cynically.
I nodded once. "I'll do that."
"So what would you give as your excuse for quitting the job at the Morettis'?"
I cocked a brow, "Isn't it obvious?"
"I mean…you're not going to include your ass getting slapped by Luciano Salvanni or that the golden heir of the Moretti scared you."
I looked at her like she'd made a point I should have included in the mail.
"Don't bother about that. I already sent the mail. But thinking about what you said, I should have included that part." I said pointedly.
"Thank God you didn't." Brushing off the topic with a wave of her hand, Millie slumped into the empty space beside me.
"Guess what's gonna happen tomorrow night?" she asked, her lips curving into a strange smile.
"When you say it that way, you make it sound like you're about to do some bad things." I gave a playful sneer.
"Well…" Millie said, placing a finger on her lips, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
"Oh God! Don't tell me you both did things already." I shut my eyes, pressing two fingers to my temple.
Millie beamed. "Yes, we did and we're doing it again!"
I pulled the throw pillows over my ear. "Ewwww. I don't wanna hear any of it!" I said, getting off the sofa.
Millie laughed, coming to shake my shoulders.
"You know, you've never done THESE THINGS." Millie giggled, "You're just so pure, Ally. Sure that's not why Matteo left?"
I turned to face her, "Mills, that idiot cheated because he wanted to. What you have with Peter is great. He's not lying to you and he treats you like a queen. Besides, sex never keeps a man. I read that part in my relationship magazine."
Millie crossed her arms, "Did he ever try to initiate sex?"
"Once!"
The fucking idiot!
What had been his sorry excuse for fucking his supposedly best friend on our anniversary?
Uhuh.
He'd said she needed emotional closure.
And I wondered how screwing her did that.
Men in general are pathetic. But men like Matteo? They're a fucking pathetic disaster!
"A man who's gonna be faithful will be. Sex never makes a man stay faithful. Right now, I've got lots of debt that needs money to get off my neck and not love."
Millie smiled, going to the fridge, "You sound like one of those relationship experts."
"I know that!" I winked.
"Do you know what today is?" Millie asked, looking over from the kitchen counter.
"Saturday?"
"Yes! And it's our anniversary!" She screamed, lifting a bottle of whiskey from the fridge.
"How the hell did I miss that?" I said, going to hug her.
"Happy friendversary, pumpkin." Millie said, hugging me, "I love you."
I pulled back to face her and rolled my eyes dramatically. "You can't help it. I'm too sweet to not be loved by you. Happy friendversary, pumpkin."
"Tonight, we'll drink and be drunk!" Millie announced, almost jumping with excitement.
"I've got an interview next week." I said, resting my chin on my palm.
"Don't be a fucking kill joy! We'll have just a little. And tomorrow's Sunday."
There's never a thing as 'little' with Millie. And tonight, it's 'drink and be drunk'.
———
Monday Morning.
The sound of the alarm beeping furiously on the bedside table woke me.
My head was splitting into a thousand pieces—I didn't do well with drinking. My body took days to recover.
I stretched lazily, pushed back strands of tangled hair from my face, moved my body lazily to Millie's side of the bed—she was spending time at Peter's—and slammed the damn alarm off.
I fell back on the bed. "Thank God I don't have to go to work today."
I turned to look at the time. 7:24am.
My brain did a backflip. "Oh no! The Interview!"
Shit!
Shit!
I swore, fell off the side of the bed, and almost tripped getting into the bathroom. I cussed.
When you're late, you don't feel the terror of running a cold shower.
I showered quickly, slid into a comfortable gown, did my hair and headed straight for C-M HOLDINGS.
I cussed under my breath, pulling the file in my hand tighter as cold air from the AC made goosebumps crawl up my bare skin.
I was literally praying in my heart for someone to open the window so a little sunshine could douse the cold.
I checked my phone again.
Wasn't the interview scheduled to be held by 8:30am?
This was almost eleven!
"Ayla Thorne…?" A tall brunette appeared from one of the glass doors,
"That's me." I said, rushing to my feet, clearing my throat.
She gave a soft smile. "You're the one for the interview?"
I bobbed my head in response. "Yes"
"Third floor. Second door by your left. Do not knock. Just walk in." she said before disappearing back through the glass door.
Okay. That's quite a briefing.
I nodded and made for the elevators.
Standing in front of the door, slightly open, and looking anything but welcoming, I wondered why this floor was so quiet.
What if something happened? What if…
I walked in.
Whoever was sitting behind the desk had his back towards me.
I cleared my throat. "Good afternoon…"
"Sit!"
One word—cold and emotionless. I think I missed this part of the script.
I sat quietly, perspiration soaked my palm.
The chair swiveled around slowly and finally stopped.
For a second, I felt my eyes were going to pop out of its socket.
Heat suddenly crawled up everywhere on my skin.
Was the AC broken? Why was this place so hot?
I blinked rapidly.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
His aloof cold stare met my fazed expression.
Was this a mistake?
I pulled my phone from my bag and straight to my mail.
C-M HOLDINGS!
C-M!
I felt like a joke.
Hadn't Millie asked me to check out the initials?
Sitting in front of me was none other than my newest nightmare, Cassian Moretti!...
My new boss was CASSIAN MORETTI!
Holy Jesus, please save me!