8: Never Seen a Girl This Brave

Lorenzo took Cassandra to the shooting range. Cassandra looked at the firearm display on the wall, seeing weapons she had only encountered on TV or in toy stores.

Since Lorenzo was coming, the guns were placed on the table instead of being chained to it.

Lorenzo put on protective glasses and adjusted them on Cassandra.

Every place his fingers touched burned with heat for Cassandra, especially in this enclosed space, where the atmosphere seemed to heat up with his every movement. Her body pressed against his, and even through the thin fabric of her clothes, she could feel his warmth and the unique scent that clung to him.

Lorenzo’s Adam's apple moved as he adjusted the glasses and noise-canceling earphones on Cassandra, but after that, he took two steps back.

“Don’t scare the little girl,” he muttered.

Cassandra aimed at the target, fired a shot, but then performed a disappearing bullet trick—her shot missed entirely.

The staff member standing nearby turned away to avoid embarrassing Cassandra, who was a bit off-target. He had been working here for a long time, and it was his first time seeing someone with such poor aim.

Lorenzo, however, didn't need any extra gear. His tall figure stood straight, and with a single hand, he spun the revolver, aimed, and fired in a fluid motion.

His exposed arm was strong, and when he fired, his shoulder moved slightly with the recoil.

To him, guns were like toys. He preferred the real thing.

Cassandra watched Lorenzo, noting the ease in his expression and the familiarity of his movements. She suddenly remembered the sounds of gunfire and screams she’d heard in the woods that day. He was from the Mafia, after all. He must be an expert when it came to using guns.

Maybe even in... other ways...

Lorenzo noticed her gaze and raised an eyebrow slightly.

Cassandra turned her head quickly. "What does his identity matter?" she thought. Anyway, he hadn't hurt her, so it was none of her business.

She had to admit, shooting was incredibly satisfying. It let all her suppressed emotions burst out in a single moment.

Without thinking, Cassandra emptied the whole magazine. Ten shots, all fired at once.

Then she tried again with another burst, but the target barely showed any signs of being hit.

Lorenzo walked over behind her, bending slightly due to their height difference—he was nearly 1.9 meters tall, while Cassandra was barely 1.6 meters.

“Arm level. Don’t tense up. Hold steady. Aim at the target,” Lorenzo said as he gently placed his hand on Cassandra’s delicate arm. His touch was so light, as if a small amount of pressure could snap her arm in two.

Since they were so close, Cassandra clearly heard his words. “I’m not nervous, I’m just excited. My hands are shaking from excitement,” she said as she fired again.

Her face was even more flushed with excitement than before, her lips pressed into a thin line. She looked like she was focused, but in reality, she just wanted to fire a hundred shots.

Lorenzo, observing, seemed to be enjoying the situation. He felt like he had made the right choice in coming here. Who says dates have to be romantic?

The more he interacted with her, the more he found she suited his tastes. Whether or not she was "edible," he decided he’d take a bite for now.

“I hit it! Mr. White Uncle, I hit it! Look, isn’t that inside the circle?” Cassandra spun around, pointing excitedly at the target, her voice trembling with excitement.

Lorenzo glanced at the target. Her shooting was so off-mark, anyone watching her would probably wet themselves from fear. He thought, *Can you at least be a little bit more efficient? This is making me nervous as hell.*

Suddenly, Cassandra realized how her behavior might seem and quickly turned her head. Gripping the gun tightly, she apologized, "Sorry, I got a little carried away."

Lorenzo’s eyes darkened with desire, like a hungry wolf spotting a delicious lamb. He was almost losing control.

He didn’t think of himself as a good man. In fact, he was far from it. But he also didn’t want to scare her off with his rough behavior. He was aware that if he overdid it, she wouldn’t come out with him next time.

After all, a hunter needs to bait the prey, not scare it away too soon.

Lorenzo slipped his hand into his pocket, his gaze deepening.

Cassandra, on the other hand, was having fun. The frustration inside her had mostly disappeared. She decided that she’d come here more often—this was much better than finding a quiet spot to shout her lungs out.

“How much does it cost here?” Cassandra asked. She didn’t get much allowance, most of it came from Grace slipping her money secretly.

She took off her noise-canceling earphones.

The Bell family was like that—they bought her the best clothes, school supplies, and piano lessons, everything that they thought would benefit them. But when it came to giving her pocket money, they were miserly.

The staff member nearby whispered, “Because we use live ammunition, each shot costs five hundred bucks.”

Cassandra thought about it. Ten shots would be five thousand, a hundred shots would be fifty thousand. That should be enough to blow off some steam.

Once a month would be enough.

Lorenzo leaned in close to Cassandra’s ear, his lips brushing her skin as he spoke. “I’ve got a membership here. You can come whenever you want.”

He’d booked a whole month, as he’d be staying here for the entire month. The manager had publicly stated it was for renovation and maintenance.

Cassandra glanced down, slightly lifting her chin. *Here we go again, always trying to take advantage.*

She pinched Lorenzo’s hand on her waist and glared at him with her little, exquisite face, puffing out her cheeks. “Mr. White Uncle!”

Lorenzo retracted his hand, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in front of him, watching her with a meaningful look.

“I’m going back. Mom says I’m not supposed to play with old perverts.” Cassandra pulled away and pinched his side, then huffed, lifting her chin arrogantly as she left the shooting range.

Lorenzo stared after her, speechless.

He hurried to catch up. He always thought women were a hassle, which is why he’d remained single. But this girl was different from the women in his business world. She always managed to surprise him and give him a new feeling.

She hadn’t even flirted with him...

And yet, she kept calling him a pervert.

After they entered the reception area, Cassandra noticed that the mango mousse she had eaten earlier was already packed for her. She stopped in her tracks and glanced at it.

“I saw you liked it, so I had the staff make a big one and packed it for you to take home,” Lorenzo said, nodding towards the man waiting outside. “Give me the car keys.”

He was going to drive her home himself.

Cassandra grabbed the packed mango mousse. “Thanks, Little White,” she said, calling him “Little White” since he wouldn’t let her call him “Mr. White Uncle.” It was easier to remember, and sounded cute.

A staff member, who had been standing by, couldn’t help but chuckle. *Mr. White to Little White—quite the difference, huh?*

Lorenzo pinched Cassandra’s cheek, his eyes half-closed, his voice low and husky. “Call me properly.”

“Thanks, Mr. White Uncle…” Cassandra winced from the pinch, her words muffled as she spoke.

She thought, *Mr. White Uncle is bad, Little White is worse. Always using his age to mess with me. I’m done playing with him. I’ll scratch his eyes out next time!*