Sinful Addiction

XXXI

ELENA CASSANO

        He was detached and he made it a habit of avoiding me, but I didn't care. I saw him last a few weeks ago and I was still haunted by his intense blue eyes.

I would lay in bed at night trying to recreate the mind-blowing orgasm he gave me, but I was a fool to think my fingers could ever replace a certain Russian assassin.

Papà hadn't brought up the matters of marrying Adriano again, but I wasn't stupid. It was final. And Mamma's apologetic expression every time his name was brought up told me the marriage was happening.

My mamma couldn't do anything. She never stood against Papà's decision, and she wouldn't start now.

I was racing towards the road—the one place where I could just escape it all and clear my head of everything. Papà informed me earlier in the day that Adriano would be attending the luncheon, and I was to be on my best behavior.

I had pretty much thrown a tantrum, slammed my phone in the wall, tossed on my bikini and stomped out the door.

I didn't go out often, and especially alone. He always ordered Alessio or some low ranked solider to shadow me. I wasn't allowed to be out without protection but in that moment, I didn't give a fuck.

We lived barely a mile from the beach and right then, I wanted to feel the wind in my hair and the power of acceleration.

I'd stolen the keys to Alessio's new Benz on the way out—the new, ridiculously expensive car he'd insisted on getting, despite his total lack of care.

A few minutes out of the driveway, I was beginning to feel same out on the road, and I was still screaming out loud with the booming radio about my new fiancé.

I gripped the wheel tightly and slammed on the gas, letting the wind rip through my hair and over my bare skin, Katy Perry's I Kissed A Girl blaring out of the car speakers as I raced towards the open road.

I had been so tied up in my own thoughts, so preoccupied with wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now, that I never even saw the flashing lights until the damn cop was right on behind me, his siren wailing.

Cazzo, just what I needed.

I groaned as I pulled to the side of the road. The cop car squawked again as it pulled up behind me, blipping at me until I remembered to turn off my engine.

I glanced in my side mirror watching in earnest as the squad car door kicked open. I scowled, fuming, and waiting for man who was about to put the icing on my shit sundae of a day.

My jaw clenched as I stared at him through the side mirror, watching as he stood tall and cracked his knuckles before he set his sights on my car.

No, not my car, me—as in he looked right at me in the side-view mirror.

And he smirked.

I glared and quickly looked away, hands tightening at ten and two on the steering wheel. I heard the heavy impact of his boots on the concrete as he approached me.

The pulse skipping a little bit as I swallowed thickly and looked right ahead, not trusting myself around this man.

"License and registration, miss." He drawled, the deep baritone which snapped me out of it, and I quickly turned to him.

I swallowed again, and I shivered.

A smirk curled his lips at the fact that he'd just pulled over a girl wearing just a skimpy red bikini.