Perfect Storm

Ten

Cashmere was sunk into the warmth of her bath, the steam swirling around her as she tried to unwind from the day's stress. Her mind drifted, not to her usual worries, but to Luciano. She thought about their time together—his charm, the way he made her feel special. She couldn't shake the strange, unsettling feeling in her stomach whenever she thought of him. It was more than attraction; it was a growing sense of attachment, even a bit of unease.

The tranquility of her bath was abruptly shattered when Luciano let himself into her condo. He didn't knock, but his presence was unmistakable. Cashmere's heart skipped a beat as she heard his voice calling her from the living room. Panic surged through her, and she scrambled out of the tub, hastily drying off and pulling on her robe.

She found Luciano standing in the living room, his pristine white button-down shirt now stained by fresh blood on his arm. He was keeping his composure, but his eyes betrayed a deep discomfort.

"What happened?" she demanded, her voice trembling as she rushed to him. Her hands shook as she guided him to the couch and began to assess the wound.

Luciano's voice was steady but laced with tension. "I need you to stitch this up for me."

Cashmere was concerned, but she was pissed. 

As she set to work, she gave Luciano a look of intensity after realizing he dodged her question. 

"Talk. Now. "

And that's what Luciano did. 

He had arrived at Rao's, expecting a routine meeting with his cousin Enzo and a few others. The evening had started civil enough, with discussions about Luciano's brother and the trouble he had caused. Luciano had apologized on his brother's behalf, but his message had been clear. If anyone tried to take his brother out, he would not hesitate to retaliate. He was prepared to fix the situation, but he wouldn't tolerate any threats against his family.

The conversation had escalated quickly. Salvatore, one of the men at the table, was infuriated by Luciano's stance. An argument erupted, quickly turning violent. Punches were thrown, and gunfire erupted. In the chaos, Salvatore's eldest son, aiming for Enzo, had shot Luciano instead. The tension had reached a boiling point, and the night had ended in a violent showdown, setting the stage for a dangerous conflict.

As Luciano recounted the night's events, Cashmere's hands trembled more with each detail. The raw honesty in his voice was unsettling. Her emotions were a tangled mess—betrayal, fear, and confusion. She thought about how he had lied to her and how the truth was far more dangerous than she'd ever imagined.

Granted, Luciano didn't lie to her...he technically wasn't involved in anything shady until this came about. However, Cash doesn't know that. In her mind she asked him a simple question, he denied being involved with anything illegal and now she was stitching up his arm that he pulled a bullet out of. 

Finally, she finished stitching up his arm, but before she could secure the bandage, she found herself crying. The tears streamed down her face uncontrollably, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Luciano, noticing her distress, pulled her into a tight embrace. His touch was tender, his voice soft but urgent. "What's wrong?" he asked, his concern evident.

Through her tears, Cashmere whispered, "I'm done."

Damn.