Sinful Addiction

I

ELENA CASSANO

I turned around the corner of the hallway, the sharp sound of gunshots resonating in the air. I was late. And yet, I was clumsily applying dark red lipstick over my lips and smacking my red pouty lips together.

        Another series of gunshots erupted, only this time, I heard the crack of his skull before the splattering of blood reached me and covered my red dress.

        "Luca!" Mamma exclaimed. Her dark eyes focused on my lipstick red, off-the-shoulder cocktail dress which was now soaked with blood. An innocent man.

        I paraded around the unconscious body on the ground, eyes momentarily registering the fact that it a man. One of the chefs. Another typical day.

        "What happened?" I asked, glancing down at my red-painted toes and suddenly grateful I didn't get blood on them.

        That would be a shame. I recently got them done and you could never go wrong with the color red.

        Mamma shook her head with a look that said 'later'. "Bontà. Come sit down." She ushered me with waving fingers.

        I couldn't tell if Mamma was in shock about the dress or specifically the blood which covered my dress.

        Either way, I couldn't give a fuck.

        "Elena." Papà downed his glass of vodka. The Boss or Luca Cassano—as the Cosa Nostra knew him—was causally sipping his drink whilst an unconscious body laid on the ground.

        His inky black hair framed his face, his firmly etched mouth gritted out through clenched teeth, "Why don't you join us?"

        Translation: Sit. The fuck. Down.

       Without a word, I slipped into the seat beside my cousin. The unexpected sound of my red stilettos as I placed them on the ground. My chest racing over a million times from all the running I did.

        A pair of legs made contact with mine, forcing my dark gaze to meet Alessio's. Dark haired, honey-brownish eyes. Handsome and sporting a boyish grin. A man who looked anything less than gorgeous any day of his life. And he knew it.

        He nudged his head slowly towards my dress, specifically my goddamn cleavage. Mamma coughed lightly, piercing dark eyes directed at my dress. I glanced down at my breasts, swallowing the strings of profanities threatening to spill out of my mouth.

        Dark red stained my olive skin. My breasts practically pouring out of my red bra. Splatters of blood against my cheek.

        A typical dinner at the Cassano's.

        I grabbed hold of a fork, swirling the cutlery around the pasta. "Bon appétit." I smiled sweetly. A smirk slowly carved on Alessio's lips, and he shook his head with an amused smile.

        " This is delicious. Thank you, Emiko." I told the young maid who silently stood behind Papà. I swore her delicate face brightened with a simple compliment like I made her day. She responded with a light nod.

        "You are late." Papà grunted in a harsh voice, firmly placed his gun on the table. The one thing Luca Cassano hated was lateness. And unfortunately, I was terrible at timing.

        Alessio raised a thick brow at me, silently reprimanding me. "You're fucked up." He mouthed. I rolled my eyes and causally gestured the middle finger towards him.