The Heir He Left Behind Chapter 01
For four whole years, I was a huge fan of Dante Marino. Then my family went bankrupt.
His childhood friend Elena suggested, “Give her a taste of her own medicine. This’ll be a good chance to cure her bad temper.”
Dante took her advice.
A week later, he had me dumped on the streets of a run-down Eastern European city.
I had nothing but the clothes on my back.
Four months later, I came back to New York — battered, bruised, looking like a beggar.
Everyone thought I’d crawl back to Dante like a stray dog, begging him to take me in.
But I didn’t just avoid him. I even mailed back the diamond necklace he’d given me.
Dante knew nothing about it. He was at the club, raising a glass with his men. “Finally got that chewed-up gum off the bottom of my shoe.”
But just as I was about to leave, Landon came running after me like a madman. “Cassie. Don’t go.”
……
The day I dragged myself back to New York, Dante’s man Vincent picked me up.
He took me to a members only private club. The air in the VIP room was thick with cigar smoke.
Through the heavy door, I heard Dante’s voice.
“Cassie’s gotten smarter. She’s as quiet as a mouse now.”
“I told you she needed to work on that temper,” Elena said scornfully. “Her family’s completely fallen apart. She’s got nothing left.”
“Without her father, she’s nobody.”
“Let’s hope she stops clinging to our Don like glue.”
Dante snorted. “No chance. She won’t give up. She’s like a—”
I pushed the door open.
The laughter stopped cold. Everyone turned to look at me.
Four months ago, I was a princess of the underworld. My father was the most powerful Don around.
Now I was in rags, not even wearing shoes.
Elena recovered first, her voice syrupy with fake concern. “Cassie, what happened to you? Come in.”
I stared at Dante and said nothing.
“What’s with that look? Get in here and sit down.” Dante’s voice snapped, his eyes full of the disgust I knew too well.
“I came to thank you,” I said flatly. “Thank you for sending Vincent to pick me up, Don.”
He grunted.
“I also came to return this.” I pulled a small velvet box from my coat pocket and set it on the table.
It was a Cartier necklace. The only birthday gift he’d ever given me. I used to treasure it, wearing it only once a year.
Dante frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Look at her hands!” a girl nearby gasped.
Everyone’s eyes shot to my fingers.
My knuckles were raw. Split open. Bleeding. My nails were broken and misshapen.
“Cassie…” Dante stood up.
“Actually, I also want to apologize.” I pulled down my sleeve. “For four years, I clung to you even though you hated me.”
I paused. “I’m sorry. I won’t do that again.”
I turned to leave.
“Cassie.”
Dante called my name. Twice.
“You’d better mean that.”
I didn’t answer. I just walked out.