Chained To His Side

Chapter 2

I slowly opened my eyes as I traveled back from the brink of a blackout. My head felt like it had been put through a commercial grade industrial blender, and my tongue tasted like copper and some cheap street liquor.

Wait… I carefully touched my surroundings and it was… Warm… comfy… Joaquin and the others probably carried me back to my room. No?

I groaned, shifting my weight, expecting the familiar silk sheets in my penthouse. Instead, the air smelled of sandalwood, expensive tobacco, and a sharp, metallic hint of gun oil.

Since when did my cleaning lady bring all those things here in my room for it to smell this strong?

When my eyes finally adjusted to the light, I roamed my eyes around. And the sight of unfamiliar surroundings greeted me,

The ceiling above me was vaulted, dark mahogany beams crisscrossing a cream-colored expanse.

Did they redecorate my room?

"Finally, I was starting to think I’d have to call a doctor.” A deep voice drew from the side.

My heart did a violent somersault as I looked for the voice.

And it didn’t take me long to see an ethereal yet scary looking man sitting in a plush velvet armchair by the window.

I instantly recognized him. Even if I was so drunk that night, I can’t forget that face. First, it’s because he made a lasting impression. And second, that face is just too good to forget.

He had shed his suit jacket, his white dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest making me ogle on it for a second before I snapped myself out.

He held a glass of champagne in one hand, watching me with interest as if I was some kind of lab rat.

“What are you doing in my room!?”

I shouted. Grabbing the sheets.

He remained unfazed in his seat. “Did your tiny little brain forget what happened last night?” he asked, his tone sharp as his jaw clenched tightly.

What? Did I do something stupid?

I tried to think hard, and eventually, the memories poured in one go. From what happened in the alley, the kiss, and the…

Oh god, the puke!

I looked at him carefully and he was still staring relentlessly at me.

“That still doesn’t explain why you are in my room.” I said, trying to accuse him.

But he just raised a brow at me.

“This is my place.” he muttered, his tone getting heavier as he slowly lost his patience.

What? I looked around and my brows furrowed in confusion.

I really thought this was my room. I mean… the interiors are indeed entirely different but I thought that’s because they redecorated it.

So I was wrong?

No! I can’t be on the losing end here. I have to turn the tables around.

No matter what I did. I can’t admit that I’m at fault.

"You," I croaked, pulling the heavy duvet up to my chin. I realized with a jolt of panic that I wasn't wearing my dress. I was in an oversized black silk shirt.

"Where is my dress? And why am I in your house? If you touched me, I swear to—"

"I have people for that," he interrupted, his voice low and dangerous.

"Your dress was a casualty of your…” he paused, his forehead creasing as if he remembered a terrible memory, “stomach incident.” he finished.

I felt my cheeks getting hot from embarrassment.

“My staff cleaned you up while you were busy being a nuisance. And as for why you’re here? You passed out on my shoes after assaulting my mouth. I don't leave litter on the street, even if it's pretty."

He stood up, his movements fluid and predatory. He walked toward the bed, the sheer scale of him making the room feel suddenly very small.

I moved away instinctively to the edge of the bed.

“Don’t come closer!”

“Or what?” he asked tauntingly.

"Do you have any idea whose daughter I am?" I demanded, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "My family will burn this city to the ground to find me. So don’t ever think of hurting me you bastardo!"

He stopped for a moment, then smirked. "I doubt it," he said, stopping at the edge of the bed.

He leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of my knees. "The Alegria’s are powerful, yes. But they are currently busy preparing for some grand alliance. Your brothers are likely too distracted by their father's business to notice one little bird flew out of her cage."

My breath hitched. He knows who I am?

"Who are you?" I whispered. Wondering what his status is for him to be this fearless upon knowing the truth of my origin.

"A man who doesn't like being kissed by strangers," he said, his gaze dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second before hardening. "My name is Lorenzo. And you, Cassandra, are a debt I haven't decided how to collect on yet."

"I don't owe you anything," I hissed.

"You ruined a five-million-dollar suit and delayed a meeting that was worth millions," he countered, a nasty smirk touching his lips. "In my world, that means I own you until I say otherwise."

“How dare you!”

He suddenly grabbed my jaw and I winced at the pressure he was exerting.

“Bear this in mind. You are mine until I decide how you can be free from all your debts.” He muttered seriously.

I wanted to resist, but I was too vulnerable now to kick him away.

“Do you understand?” he asked, but I looked away, making him click his tongue.

“If you don’t answer, then I guess I’ll just have to force the answer out of you.” he said menacingly, then his eyes dropped to my lips.

My heart skipped a beat. I want to push him away, to resist, but I don’t know why I’m not doing it.

Our lips were only inches away, when all of a sudden, his phone rang.

He stopped his movement, breathing heavily as he straightened up, checking a heavy gold watch. "The sun is coming up. I have a meeting with some men. I don't have time to babysit you ."

He threw a shopping bag onto the foot of the bed as he fixed himself.

"Put those on. My driver will drop you two blocks from Jewel.”

I looked at the bag and it was a fresh set of clothes for me.

“Remember, just because you’ll scotch free doesn’t mean you aren’t chained to me.” he said, and I harrumphed.

“What makes you think I’ll see you again?”

“Oh we will. I’ll make sure of it.”

He said walking to the door with wide steps.

I glared at his leaving figure and couldn't help myself. The alcohol was gone, but the Alegria pride was back in full force.

"You’re making a big mistake crossing someone like me," I called out.

He stopped at the door, glancing back over his shoulder. One eyebrow arched in lazy amusement. "I don't make mistakes, putana.” he smirked, his handsome dimples showing.

“Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in his room.

I looked at the clock and it was almost eight in the morning.

Realizing that I was running late for our family gathering, I quickly got up and showered, then left with lightning steps.

I’m so screwed!