razorblade | sebastian vettel ✓

chapter 9 | the other woman

«You like a pretty boy with a pretty voice who is trying to sell you something. Something that you already have.»

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The guy in the lobby eyed her, up and down as always. Cassandra threw the glare back at him, and he just nodded in what seemed to be some sort of greeting. Purely out of politeness, it was what they got paid for. To ignore and smile.

It wasn't a secret for anyone, and if it was for someone, then they had to be pretty stupid. Matteo, from the fifth floor, generally came home holding a redhead's hand, all smiles and everything, but occasionally, a known brunette would visit him, typically when the redhead wasn't around. It didn't take a genius to place two and two together. If they maintained their mouth shut about it, that was on them and their conscience, but some of his neighbours and the security guys of the building knew Matteo, from the fifth floor, cheated on his lovely girlfriend — fiancé, actually — with Cassandra.

The walk of shame, as some people called it sometimes, the in and out, or whatever, didn't use to feel that bad. Cassandra generally didn't care. Sure it wasn't a very sorority move from her to sleep with another girl's fiancé, but alas she wasn't the perfect feminist. Everybody had their flaws. Now though, as she walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor, she did feel strange. And something told her it had nothing to do with the poor fiancé. Emily. She remembered her name.

God, she wished karma wasn't real. Otherwise, she would be fucked.

Trying to erase Emily from her thoughts, Cassandra focused on the buttons with different numbers on the side of the inside of the elevator. She wondered where did Sebastian live. She shook her head, that wasn't the point either.

The doors of the elevator opened with a loud clink, and she stepped out of there to make her way straight to Matteo's door. Mainly because there was a woman opening one of the doors in the corridor, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with more stares and side-eyeing. Did Matteo also get all those gestures? She hoped so. It took two to tango.

Cassandra knocked three times on the door, and it opened quite fast. Matteo smiled when he saw her, she looked up at him with big eyes but couldn't bring herself to smirk or look smug like other times, she just walked inside the flat, knocking her shoulder with his arm as she stepped in. The sound of the door closing behind her and Matteo wrapping an arm around her waist startled her.

"As promised, your beloved race is on." He gestured with his head at the big television on the wall where SkySports were streaming the Hungarian Grand Prix. She looked at him before walking to settle on the huge sofa in front of the TV. The place was fancy. She wondered if Sebastian's was the same.

For fuck's sake, Cassandra, she wanted to scream.

A minute later, Matteo took a seat next to her. His side of the sofa sank with his weight, and his side brushed hers. "I'm still confused. You never liked sports." He reached to touch her hair. Cassandra tried her best not to flinch.

She was behaving like a dunce. "It's entertaining." She simply shrugged and looked at him.

He smiled. "You know, I think one of those drivers lives here. I've heard about it. Well, or he lives here sometimes. I don't know." Cassandra blinked. "One of the German ones...forgot his name." He looked up, thinking expression and everything. When it came to mind his attention drifted back to her. "Vettel, I think."

Her eyebrows raised, feigning surprise. "Really?" Matteo nodded. "That's cool." Men were so stupid.

"I guess if you're into that." He shrugged dismissively. His expression changed to one she knew meant business. His hand landed on her thigh. "We aren't here to talk about racing drivers and fast cars though."