2: How Did It Come to This?

Cassandra took a quick shower and stepped out of the bathroom in a fresh white dress, similar in style to the one she had worn earlier. She instinctively brushed her black hair behind her ears, her skin flushed pink from the hot water, making her delicate face appear even more radiant.

Lorenzo was sitting casually on the edge of the bed, one long leg crossed over the other. A cigarette hung loosely from his fingers, a habit he indulged in frequently. At the sound of her footsteps, he looked up. His dark eyes grew a shade deeper, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.  

This little girl didn’t need to do anything. Just standing there, she stirred something primal in him—a desire he had already indulged once tonight.

Meeting Lorenzo’s unabashed gaze, Cassandra forced a polite smile. Under the light, her eyes shimmered like starlight. “Uncle White, it’s getting late. I should head back now.”  

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, the cigarette between his fingers accentuating his amused expression. “Without leaving me any contact information? Once you walk out that door, how am I supposed to find you again?”  

Cassandra’s lashes fluttered slightly. After everything that had happened tonight, she was desperate to leave and figure out how to explain it all to her family. As for contact information… she didn’t think it was necessary. If anything, she was hoping to avoid him.  

“You said earlier you’d treat me to dinner as thanks,” Lorenzo reminded her, walking over and holding out his phone. “Type in your number.”  

The faint scent of his cologne filled the air as he stepped closer. Feeling flustered, Lorenzo took a half step back, more from self-awareness than courtesy. He wasn’t a gentleman, and he certainly wasn’t a saint.  

“How about this,” Cassandra suggested, her lips curving into an innocent smile. “You give me your number instead. That way, even if I change mine, I can still reach you.”  

Lorenzo chuckled. Clever girl. If he gave her his number, the choice to contact him—or not—would be entirely hers. But he wasn’t about to let her slip away so easily.  

With a swift motion, he pulled her into his arms.  

“Ah—”  

Caught off guard, Cassandra’s face was pressed against his chest. Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel his warmth and the distinctly masculine scent that enveloped her.  

Because of her upbringing, she rarely had physical contact with men unless absolutely necessary. Now, her cheeks flushed, and her heart raced uncontrollably. She tried to push him away, only to find his arms tightening around her.  

Tilting her head up, her misty eyes resembled a frightened little rabbit. “Fine… I’ll leave my number.”  

The events of the evening had already pushed her to her limits. She had been trying to maintain her composure, but now her emotions were unraveling. Fear and anxiety gnawed at her. She had crossed a line with a man she barely knew, and now his touch and their proximity felt overwhelming.  

Lorenzo glanced down at her tearful face and softened his grip. His voice was hoarse as he said, “Forget it. I’ll have my driver take you home.”  

“Thank you,” Cassandra whispered, still trembling. Her fingers were slightly unsteady, and her legs felt weak. She shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to describe the soreness in certain areas.  

Lorenzo accompanied her downstairs, his brows furrowing when he noticed her awkward gait. “Did I hurt you?”  

He didn’t think he had. Despite being rough, he had maintained some restraint.  

Cassandra’s face burned with embarrassment, but she straightened her posture and replied softly, “I’m fine…” She wasn’t used to this kind of pain, but she would manage.  

Lorenzo pressed his lips together. The more he looked at her, the more she seemed to fit his taste—innocent yet charming, sweet yet composed. Despite being surrounded by stunning women, he rarely felt any interest in them. They were all too flashy for his liking.  

When they reached the hotel entrance, his driver was already waiting.  

Outside, over a dozen men in suits stood guard, their eyes scanning the surroundings with sharp vigilance. A few rested their hands on their waists, ready to act at a moment’s notice.  

Lorenzo waved them off, knowing their presence might scare her.  

Cassandra cast him a curious glance before quickly looking away. Who exactly was this man? In the woods earlier, she had heard gunshots and screams. These men certainly didn’t look like ordinary bodyguards.  

The driver opened the door of the limited-edition Rolls-Royce.  

Lorenzo shielded her head as she climbed into the car, earning a soft “thank you” before she settled into the seat.  

Watching the car drive off, Lorenzo slid his hands into his pockets. His tall, muscular frame, paired with his sharp features, made him stand out even among the elite.  

---

As Cassandra sat in the car, silent tears began to fall. She was terrified. Her engagement was fast approaching, and now… what was she supposed to do?  

The Bell Family was prominent in their country, and her father had long pinned his hopes on this union to secure foreign resources and connections for the family business.  

Her fiancé likely had his reasons too—seeking her family’s domestic influence. But how could she face them after this?  

The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror but wisely chose to stay silent.  

When they arrived at her cousin Vivian’s house, Cassandra quickly wiped her tears and thanked the driver before stepping out.  

---

Vivian’s house was modest but cozy, with a garden full of blooming flowers and a little white poodle named Snowy. Thankfully, Vivian wasn’t home yet, likely out drinking and partying as usual.  

Cassandra opened the fridge and took out some fruit salad and steak. She was starving after all the chaos. While eating, her mind raced.  

Should she go to the hospital to… fix things? It felt dishonest to her fiancé, but the thought of leaving things as they were filled her with dread.  

---

Later, when Vivian finally returned, she noticed the red marks on Cassandra’s neck.  

“Cassandra! What happened?!” Vivian’s voice was a mix of alarm and confusion.  

Cassandra rushed to a mirror and froze. Several red marks trailed down her neck—evidence she hadn’t noticed earlier.  

Vivian quickly pieced things together and demanded an explanation.  

Tearfully, Cassandra recounted everything that had happened.  

When Cassandra mentioned the man’s name, Vivian turned pale and showed her a photo on her phone. “Is this him?”  

The photo depicted Lorenzo standing beside the governor of New Avalon, surrounded by men in suits.  

Cassandra nodded.  

Vivian smacked her forehead. “Of all the people… why did it have to be *him*?”  

---

Vivian explained Lorenzo’s infamy as one of the last active mafia leaders, with a reputation for ruthlessness.  

“Cassandra, promise me you won’t go near him again. That man is dangerous.”  

Tears streaming down her face, Cassandra nodded. “I don’t like older men anyway… and he’s not even serious…”  

Vivian sighed and hugged her. “For now, let’s figure out a plan. Just don’t do anything reckless. And whatever happens, *don’t* get pregnant.”  

---

As Cassandra lay on the sofa, hugging a pillow, she couldn’t help but silently curse the two drunkards who had started this nightmare.  

She wished she had never left home. Now, she was trapped in a mess far more complicated than she ever imagined.