Pretty Little Game

One kiss stole my heart. And then he left me crushed…

Cassio Marchetti is supposed to be off-limits. At least, that’s what my powerful brother says. I had no intention of listening to him–until Cassio stole one blistering kiss and then ghosted me.

Now he’s back. In all of my classes, every day. There’s no reason for the son of a mafia boss to be a theatre major–unless he’s telling the truth when he says he’s here because he wants me.

That he wants us. He swears he’s the Romeo to my Juliet, that he won’t give up until I give him another chance–no matter what our families say.

Problem is–I know how that story ends. And I’m terrified that this is all just another game.

If it is, it’s the prettiest one I’ve ever played.

Pretty Little Game is a full-length, sizzling dark mafia, friends to lovers STANDALONE ready to be devoured.

Book 1: Pretty Little Lies (Nicolo and Anya)
Book 2: Pretty Little Toy (Ilya and Whitney)
Book 3: Pretty Little Game (Cassio and Bianka)
Book 4: Pretty Little Princess (Pyotr and Silvia)

Bianka

Two Years Later

“Oh, shit,” Ellie mutters beside me as we wait for our History of Musical Theater class to start.

“What?” I ask, turning to follow her gaze to the door, but I already know. 

Cassio’s standing in the doorway, his stupidly charming smile spreading easily across his face as our eyes meet. 

“What is he doing here?” I demand of Ellie for what feels like the hundredth time. 

My first day of senior year, and I’m beyond angsty–not because of my choice in classes but who’s in them. After giving me two years of stone-cold silence following our kiss before sophomore year, Cassio is suddenly everywhere. 

How he was in three of my theater-related morning classes when he’s been an environmental science major for as long as I’ve known him is beyond me. Ellie seemed as baffled by his behavior as I am, when we talked about it over lunch. But what really galls me is that he’s sat next to me in each class. 

“Maybe you should just try asking him this time,” Ellie suggests lightly, and I scowl at her. “Or not,” she backpedals quickly. 

“I tried talking to him. I tried every time I ran into him for, like, a year. He wasn’t interested in letting me in then. Why should I have to make the effort now? I swear he’s doing this just to piss me off,” I gripe, crossing my arms and slumping in my chair as I look away from him, refusing to play into his stupid game. 

“Look, I don’t know what really happened between you two, but seriously, I doubt he picked his classes just to irritate you,” Ellie reasoned. 

“Then why is he in all of mine?”  

I tried to ignore him this morning, stonewalling him in the same way he has me for two years now. But that seemed an almost impossible feat when he kept cracking jokes and muttering comments under his breath that I desperately wanted to respond to. 

Still, I did my best, refusing to meet his eyes or acknowledge him, even when he said my name. Because he’s well past the opportunity to make things right with me. I hate Cassio. I hate him because, at one point, he let me think we might have a special connection. 

He took my heart that night he kissed me. And like a ruthless asshole, he tossed it over his shoulder and walked away. Leaving me at a loss for what I could have possibly done wrong.

“Ladies,” Cassio says in his silky voice, interrupting our conversation.

I can hear the smile lingering on his face, but I refuse to look. 

“Hey, Cass,” Ellie says jovially, and I glare at her to make her betrayal clear. 

It feels like she’s done a good amount of that over the past two years, though I’ve tried not to be bitter about the fact that she found love and I didn’t. While Lucca and Ellie seem to be going as strong as ever, I’ve learned to cope with the pain of Cassio’s initial rejection and the hurt and resentment that’s lingered since. 

Of course, I haven’t been able to just be free of Cassio. To let him vanish into the sea of college faces. No, with his twin brother dating my best friend, I see Cassio’s face even if he’s not there–when I hang out with Ellie and Lucca on occasion. 

Though Cassio’s rejection has even alienated me from my best friend, it seems. She spends most of her time with Lucca now, and seeing as Cassio doesn’t want to be with me, that means I’m the odd man out. Ellie and I still take as many classes together as we can. But we used to spend all our time together. Now, it’s a lot more me time.

For two years, my world has been flipped on its head because of the one night I kissed Cassio Marchetti. And while his fleeting presence in my life rocked me to my very core, I have learned the painfully hard way that I mean nothing to him. 

“Mind if I sit?” he asks, not waiting for an answer before dropping his bag and slumping into the chair beside me. 

“I do actually,” I snap, turning away from him.

“What? Do I smell or something?” 

I catch him lifting his arm out of the corner of my eye so he can sniff. I want to tell him he does, that he should stop forcing me to endure him, but I can’t. In truth, the tantalizing scent of bergamot and vetiver calls to my nose, and I subconsciously take a deep breath. 

Since I can’t bring myself to lie, I keep silent, refusing to meet his eyes. After Cassio gives himself a preliminary sniff test, he shrugs and turns his attention to his backpack. 

“They were having one of those craft artist events down by the main student book shop. Some cute, creative ideas going on there,” Cassio continues lightly as he digs inside his bag. “I saw this and thought of you, Bianka.”

Withdrawing a tiny box from his bag, he sets it lightly on the table in front of me. It looks like it might contain some sort of jewelry, and I’m painfully tempted to open it and see what’s inside. But he’s playing with me, like I’m an old game he stumbled across and thought it would be entertaining to use for a day. I know it. He’s trying to find some way to get me to engage.

I stare down at the box coldly, unwilling to move my arms for fear I’ll fold to the temptation. 

“Don’t you want to open it?” Cassio offers, leaning forward into my field of vision, his eyes dancing as his eyebrows rise in silent surprise.  

I can’t take it anymore. I snap, my resentment flaring up in me with such force that I can’t stop myself from meeting his gaze. 

It took me a while to hash out the reason for Cassio’s sudden disinterest in me. Ilya probably got to him. No other man has been brave enough to date me after meeting my brother, but I really thought Cassio was different. Hell, he kissed me after he heard my argument with Ilya about spending time with him and Lucca. 

Maybe Ilya approached Cassio afterward. I’m sure the twins would never tell me if he had. Or maybe Cassio just thought it wise to stay away but figured he might as well have a bit of fun with me–like he is today–since Lucca was making out with my best friend anyway.

I don’t know. And frankly, at this point, I don’t care.  

I level him with a spiteful glare as my words hiss past my lips in a loud whisper. “What is your deal? Why are you suddenly in so many theater classes when you’re an environmental sciences major? Don’t you have anything better to do than harass me?” I demand, my tone dripping with vitriol. 

His surprise grows more pronounced, and his smile falters ever so slightly before he recovers his humor-filled confidence. “I decided to switch majors,” he says simply, one shoulder lifting and dropping causally, as if it’s a perfectly logical response. 

I’m struck dumb, my shock overwhelming my anger. If he’s telling the truth, that means he basically wasted three years of his education studying environmental sciences if he plans to graduate with a theater major. It makes absolutely no sense. 

He never seemed to take theater all that seriously in the elective he and Lucca took with me. So, why the sudden interest? And how in the hell did he just skip all the lower division classes needed to take my classes? 

I know the answer to that as soon as the question pops into my head. He’s a Marchetti. He probably just had to swing by the Arts Department office and make a request. His father pours so much money into the program that they couldn’t possibly care if Cassio gets a proper education or if he just wants to putz around his senior year. 

“You just decided?” I demand, leaning closer in my fury. “And what made you decide theater is your new passion?” 

He does another casual one-shoulder shrug, intensifying my frustration. “To be honest, Lucca has always been more of the science nerd. Besides, just because we’re twins doesn’t mean I can’t have separate interests.” 

He gives me a pointed look that makes me think he’s implying I’m his newfound interest. Absolutely fucking not. He must be joking. I don’t know that I’ve ever wanted to slap someone so badly in my life. 

Two years. Two years he’s treated me like shit, ignored me, never explained himself or even apologized for leading me on. Now this? 

I’m out of my chair in an instant, my hands balled into fists, my lips pressed tight as I glare down at Cassio. The humor that dances across his lips begs to be smacked right off his face. 

Before I do something I’ll come to regret–like slapping the son of Lorenzo Marchetti and getting myself expelled from Rosehill in my senior year–I snatch up my bag and storm from the row where Ellie and I were sitting. 

I don’t look back as I move as far away from him as possible, finding an open seat on the other side of the classroom–one without a free chair next to it–and flop into it. 

That tiny jewelry box still sitting on the desk I just vacated lingers in the back of my mind, and I almost wish I had snatched it before leaving–just to satisfy my curiosity. But I didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing he got to me. 

So he changed his major, but why does he have to be in what seems to be every single one of my classes? And why in the hell does he keep sitting next to me? 

He’s even finagled his way into my Dramatization and Emotional Acting, an upper division course he shouldn’t have the prereqs to get in. I had really been looking forward to this semester, and now I’m tempted to drop it just so I don’t have to hear his obnoxiously sexy voice.

I cannot believe him. And I can’t bring myself to feel bad for abandoning Ellie either. Just ask him. What terrible advice. Now I’m faced with the knowledge that Cassio switched majors for absolutely no logical reason. And he had the gall to imply he’s interested in me. 

What is he playing at? Well, Bianka seems to have finally decided to give up on me, so I better cast another hook and reel her back in. I’m so angry I could scream. 

But just then, our professor enters the room, her introduction leaving her lips before she’s even made it to the front of the class, and I don’t have time to dwell on Cassio’s insane reasoning. What an entitled prick for thinking he can waltz back into my life and wrap me neatly around his finger with a few cute words, a bit of cheeky humor, and a gift. 

My irritation spikes, and I dare to steal a glance back at him after class starts, my eyes narrowed in a malicious glare. But when I look, Cassio’s eyes are on me. Their hazel glint almost green in the fluorescent lighting. 

Ellie, next to him, has her attention trained on the professor, who hands out syllabi, but I can’t focus on her words. Because as I glance in Cassio’s direction once more, he has the nerve to wink at me. I really might just kill him.