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Carmine lets out an exasperated sigh, signals to turn. “I also had a date.”
“Yeah, but you haven't seen who he was on a date with,” Luca says.
I shoot Carms a shit-eating grin. “Just think of it as another one.”
He shakes his head, takes a glance down at his body. “I’d have to change anyway, look at me. I’ve got fucking blood on my shoes."
I roll the window down, sit back against the seat wincing as I do. “What do you want me to say? You choose this life. You don’t like blood on your shoes, go work in the bodega.”
He shrugs. “Probably still get blood on my shoes.”
When we arrive back at Euphoria, me and Luca jump out and he heads inside without another word to me or Carms. I open the back door and crouch down in front of her before I go. She still can’t meet my eyes but I don’t blame her. I don't even want to know what’s happened to her in that hellhole. “When people ask you what happened, what do you say?” I try to keep my voice as gentle as possible but I’m not sure it comes across that way.
She swallows and looks to Carms for reassurance; he reluctantly nods at her. She finally meets my eyes. “I’ll say I ran away. I don’t know how the fire started but I saw my chance and I ran as soon as chaos broke out.”
“Good.” I take a pen from my pocket. “I’m going to give you my number, I want you to call me if you need anything, okay?” She nods quickly and Carm hands me a piece of scrap paper from the centre console. She takes it and folds it gently in her palm.
“Thank you.” She says quietly. I nod and close the door, heading towards my car so I can go home. Carm is probably the best man for the job. I trust him with my life and he’d never do anything to hurt someone vulnerable. He's probably the most gentle-looking one out of us all. Raff terrifies small children with his sheer size and lack of speech, let alone beaten and abused women and Luca actively tries to frighten anyone he can. I could take her but to be honest I want to go check on Casimira. As much as she didn’t look freaked out at the restaurant, I can imagine as the adrenaline ebbs and the realisation settles that she almost died today, that would freak anyone out especially if you're not adjusted to this life.
When I pull into the garage back at home I send a text to Matteo, Frans's security, telling him he’s good to bring Fran home whenever. As I get up the stairs and into the kitchen I'm surprised to see the house dark and quiet apart from some superhero movie playing in the main room. Bennys passed out on one of the couches and Casimira on the other, a blanket draped over her. God, she really was beautiful. Dark hair fanned out around her, Darker eyelashes curling on her cheek, pink lips parted, her chest rising and falling steadily. She looks too peaceful to wake so I leave her there and go back to the kitchen to grab a first aid kit and a mirror so I can patch my eye up.
12
Casimira
Present-day
Long Island, New York City
Benny’s driving was interesting, to say the least. He checked his phone every two seconds until I forcibly took it from him telling him I'll read out any texts he receives. He wasn’t happy, grumbling under his breath but he was going way too fast to not have his eyes solely on the road and I don’t feel like tempting death any more than I already have today.
I’m not sure what I was expecting Enzo’s house to be like, but it wasn’t this. After driving way out of the city for about an hour, mainly driving in circles and going back on ourselves at random points, we passed through the entrance to a gated community. The stoney-faced guard waved us through and we passed house after house, slowly the mansions getting more and more private behind fences and shrubbery. We approach a tall wrought iron fence with high bushes behind that completely abstract your view of the property inside. Benny clicks a fob on his dash and the gates mechanically open.
It's picturesque. Huge trees line the grey stone driveway cutting through a sprawling lush green garden.
“Is that a helicopter?” I ask, staring at the sleek black helicopter sitting across the grass.
“No, it's a horse-drawn carriage. Obviously, it's a helicopter.” He rolls his eyes and I let out a disbelieving laugh. What alternate universe have I stepped into? Who lives like this?
At the end of the winding driveway, sits a huge mansion. It reminds me of the houses in Spain, only much larger and grander. Yellow stones with green vines crawling up towards the terracotta roof.
I must have looked shocked because Benny started laughing “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He clicks a second key fob that opens the garage doors connected to the side of the mansion. We drive through it and I expect just a normal garage but of course, that was a gross understatement. This leads underground like a villain's lair. I’m starting to wonder if this is some fever dream I've cooked up in my head.
My mouth falls fully open as we descend underneath the house. The cars. Definitely a fever dream. An Aston Martin DBS 770 in black. A Mercedes G63 with the 4-litre v8 biturbo engine, I’d give my left arm to drive that. I actually weigh up in my mind how cringe it would be to ask Benny if he could just start the engine so I can hear her purr. I decide it would be horrendously cringe. Don't get me wrong, I wanna hear the DBS but that G63 is my dream car. After Scarlett of course. Still my baby.
I’m just stuck frozen as I take in the amount of wealth collected in just this room. Two Lamborghinis sit in the far corner against the concrete wall, one an eye-watering green Huracan the other a sleek black Aventador. Alek would shit his pants. We park next to a few dirt bikes and one very sexy, very expensive-looking sports bike. Jesus Christ, this is like stepping into a different world.
Benny grins at me pointing to the expensive-looking bike. “That baby’s mine.”
“What sixteen-year-old is allowed a super bike?”
“Me.” He chucks me a cheeky grin over his shoulder as he leads me up a spiral staircase at the back of the garage.
“Your dad brought you a superbike?”
He lets out a deep laugh. “Fuck no. I don't have a dad. I have an Enzo and Luca.” He pushes open the door and I stop a few steps from him, should I say sorry for bringing it up?
“Enzo brought me the bike for passing my exams.” He says proudly. He doesn't seem bothered so I take his lead. “That’s cute,” I say as he waves me through the open door and into a huge cream marble kitchen with a large island and big windows. We pass straight through it and into the main part of the house.
