What if a little white lie became the fight of your life? Vincenzo Casano has everything-money, charm, and a reckless lifestyle that has always shielded him from consequences. But when his billionaire grandfather delivers an ultimatum-settle down or lose the family empire-Vincenzo is left scrambling. When a chance encounter leads him to Cassie Knight, a struggling fashion designer with big dreams, he strikes a deal: she'll pretend to be his fiancée, and he'll help her career. But neither of them expects the game to turn real. What begins as a harmless charade spirals into a tangle of secrets, betrayal, and undeniable passion. As old family wounds resurface and dangerous enemies close in, Vincenzo and Cassie must decide if their fake love can withstand the weight of their real lives. In a world where appearances are everything, can love survive when the masks come off? Read to find out! xoxo!
Prologue
...
Vincenzo's POV
Milan, Italy
"Lay one finger on her, Aldo, and I fucking swear-'
A hard slap lands on my cheek, sending me-and the chair I am tied to-to the ground on one side.
Gravity immediately strains my body against the cords that hold me firmly to the wooden chair. This is definitely the worst position to be in right now, but that is currently the least of my worries.
Aldo stands with a gun pointed at Cassie's head. She is tied too, crying, and straining against the cords, and the duct tape restraining her.
My heart is shattering into a million fragments at the sight of this, and I'm struggling against my restraints, but obviously it's of no use.
At this point I would give anything, and everything without hesitation to stop him from pulling the trigger.
"Go easy on him, Bastian. Death is already at his door," Aldo chuckles dryly. Then he turns to me, "You know, this all seems too familiar," he says, nodding. His pistol is still trained on Cassie's head.
"Ah, yes. Your father said those exact words right before I shot your mother. Yet nothing happened. It's all too similar," he chuckles dryly again.
"Well, except for the fact that she is pregnant, with your child," he says, cocking the gun.
My eyes widen in horror, and surprise as I look from him to her.
Cassie's face is flooded with tears, and she nods.
"I'm gonna kill you!" I yell, pushing myself off the floor.
Then the gunshot rings out.
...
One
Vincenzo's POV
New York, USA
"Lorenzo, I bet you the red McLaren; that Asian chick wakes up in my bed tomorrow morning. You game?" I wink at my cousin, taking a sip of my drink.
The club lights spin around us, making my smile appear more devious.
Lorenzo follows my gaze to the girl in question.
There are a couple of girls on the dance floor, but with the way she's moving her body, I'm sure he immediately understands which one.
"Eh," he shrugs, turning back to me.
"She looks like trouble," he warns, sipping his drink.
"The hot kind," I smirk, putting my drink to my lips again. "Come on, have some fun, man," I play-punch him.
"Today's the last day of February."
"Actually, tomorrow is the last day. This year's a leap year," Lorenzo corrects, and sips his drink again. "But that's still no reason to go crazy, Vincenzo," he adds with a careless roll of his eyes.
However, I'm already on my feet.
"When have I ever?" I ask, going for the kill while he watches with a resigned sigh.
The nightclub is in full flow; the loud music, half-naked bodies, and flashing lights create an atmosphere of ecstasy that seems almost surreal.
A feat achieved with the aid of drugs currently being released through strategic vents making the club seem like a vortex of noise and light as I make my way to the dance floor.
I easily get into the flow of her dance, and she doesn't hesitate to let me explore her curves as we move rhythmically to the beat of the song.
I match her moves with perfect chemistry, and we go on for a few minutes when I finally raise my hand, and give the signal.
The DJ immediately switches the song.
"Oh!" The girl complains loudly.
"Happens every time," I sigh exasperatedly, like I'm not the one behind the sudden change.
"A drink?" I ask, sharing a wink with the DJ.
"Sure, Vincenzo," she smiles, leading the way.
I pause, taken aback slightly.
How does she know my name? I ask myself, squinting.
If she knows my name, Lorenzo is probably right, she is trouble.
But watching her ass strain against that postcard disguised as a skirt as she walks to the bar, I just know I have to have her.
We slide onto stools at the counter, and I order a pornstar martini for us both.
"Have we met before?" I ask, still slightly bugged by the fact that she knows my name, and I don't hers.
"No," she murmurs, playing with the buttons of my shirt.
"But who doesn't know Vincenzo Casano?" She asks, leaning forward, her lips in an ultra-seductive pout.
"Although, I'm quite disappointed that you don't know me," she muses, leaning away.
I watch her, alarm bells going off in my head.
Why am I supposed to know her? Who is she?
Lorenzo's words resound in my ears, and I know I have to back off before I get into any trouble.
But...
She is so damn attractive!
She has that careless Asian beauty, and her curves are just too glorious to resist.
So, rather than back away, I do what any insatiable Casanova would do...
"I know a way to fix that."
The words have barely rolled off my lips when I swiftly move her onto me.
Her nano skirt responds quickly, slipping up to reveal even more skin than her crochet corset halter top.
"Oh, right here?" She chuckles against my neck, sending a shudder through me while she slowly rocks her hips against me.
I breathe deeply. I know I'm long gone at this point, and there's no hope of saving me-even if she's the devil herself.
"I have a chauffeured Rolls outside, and an apartment a few blocks away. You pick," I whisper in her ear.
She throws her head back, and grins, her eyes glinting under the dim lights.
Her neck looks so good, it would be impossible to resist if I was a vampire.
Then she leans in again, and bites her lower lip flirtatiously,
"Why not both?" She whispers back.
My grin widens. This bet is going to be an easy win.
All of Lorenzo's warnings are suddenly a long-lost memory.
We down our martinis quickly, and I wrap an arm around her waist, then lead her through the crowd and out of the nightclub.
When we step into the cool night air, my driver is already waiting with the Rolls, the sleek, black car shining under the streetlights.
"Chivalry still exists?" she murmurs as I get the door for her.
"Only till tomorrow morning," I reply, sliding in after her.
The scent of the plush leather and the faint hum of the engine immediately surround us like in a luxurious private jet, or a first-class flight.
Not willing to waste any time, I quickly put the privacy screen up, and pull her onto my lap, crashing my lips against hers in a heated kiss.
Her nano skirt goes all the way up this time as she straddles me, and her G-string offers no resistance.
Finally, my hands are free to roam that ass I've had my eyes on the entire night. I can already feel every inch of her against my crotch.
I slide my hands up to her waist, and grind her hips against me, she lets out a soft moan at the contact while her fingers roam over my shirt, making quick work of my buttons as if they are her kryptonite.
I can already feel her wetness against me, and the friction gets me harder by the second.
The silent grandeur of the car's exterior contrasts sharply with the sound of our heavy breathing and the impatient rustling of our clothes filling the interior.
I slide my hands further up her sides, pushing her skirt up to her pierced navel while she continues to grind her waist against me.
I bury my face in her bosom, nipping at her nipples through the crochet top, and drawing a soft moan from her.
"No time to waste, huh," she whispers breathlessly, threading her fingers through my hair, and pulling me closer.
"None," I whisper hungrily, trailing kisses up her neck, my voice rough with desire.
"I've wanted you since I saw you take on that dance floor."
Her chuckle is a low and sultry sound, and she pulls back just enough to look into my eyes.
"You're going to have to earn me, Mr. Casano."
"Oh, I plan to," I growl, gripping her hips as I pull her closer, our bodies moving in sync with the gentle rocking of the car.
The city's night lights flicker past, reflecting against the car windows, but we hardly take notice of them, too busy finding out how far we can go without losing all our clothes.
We finally arrive at my apartment building, flushed, breathless, and half-naked.
I barely give the driver time to open the door before pulling her out of the car and into the building, my hands never leaving her body.
A family of three is in the lobby. The mother promptly covers her son's eyes and her husband's as we go through, drowning in each other, and completely unmindful of our surroundings.
I tap impatiently on the 5th floor button, while she bathes my neck and chest with kisses, slipping one hand into my pants.
I breathe sharply.
"Oh, you like to play dirty, huh?" I say in a low growl.
The elevator opens then, and she backs into it, with this mischievous smile on her face.
"Get over here," I growl, reaching for her.
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