Blood Ties, Love Binds

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Blood Ties, Love Binds Page 2

by Alexa Whitewolf


  “Sean.” His name passed through gritted teeth, though she forced herself to remain calm. “Here are my papers. Mind telling me what you pulled me over?”

  A smirk on his lips, Sean took the required documentation from her hand and pretended to look through it. I would’ve thought he had it memorized by now, considering how many times he flagged me down for bullshit excuses.

  Cassandra forced another breath through her lungs, recalling old meditation techniques from her youth of practicing martial arts. After long moments, she got her heart rhythm to slow down – at least until Sean squatted back down.

  “Your sticker is overdue.”

  “My what?”

  “License plate sticker, Ms. Di Cavalier.” He paused for a breath, then grinned. “You were supposed to renew it two weeks ago after your birthday, yet our records indicate no such action was taken on your part.”

  Are you freaking –

  Cassandra bit back the string of curses running through her mind, and instead forced a neutral tone. “I apologize, officer. It slipped my mind, but I’ll take care of it today before heading in to work.”

  Sean tilted his head, lips pursed as if considering her words. Then, a dejected look on his face, he said, “I’m afraid I can’t let you off with a warning.”

  Of course you can’t, asshole. And it’s not the first time.

  “Fine. How much?”

  Sean pulled his notepad out of his back pocket and wrote something, then ripped the paper off and handed it to Cassandra. She glanced at it, then did a double-take. “Four hundred dollars!?”

  His widening smirk told her it was the exact reaction he’d expected, but Cassandra was past trying to be reasonable. “This can’t be right.”

  “Are you defying an officer of the law, Ms. Di Cavalier?” His eyes glittered dangerously, yet it was not enough to deter her.

  “Not defying, officer. Merely wondering how in hell the fine tripled. As far as I knew, it was one hundred forty or thereabouts.”

  Sean’s gaze became hooded and he leaned into the window frame. “Would you like to contest this with my superior?”

  Cassandra bit on her bottom lip, fighting back a scream of rage. She couldn’t, because doing so would mean paperwork, and her legal name on said paperwork, open to the public – and that was more of Pandora’s box she didn’t need to open. Unfortunately, Sean was more than aware of the little nugget of information.

  With a satisfied smirk, he pulled back. “Didn’t think so. Of course, there are other ways to pay off the fine… Or even make it go away.”

  Cassandra’s glare would have incinerated him, if only superpowers were real. As it was, it did manage to make that infuriating smirk slip off. “Still playing hard to get, I see. Very well, see you next time.”

  And with an infuriating wave, he was gone. Cassandra listened to the sound of his engine in the distance until it was gone, then looked in her lap where the fine had fallen. Tears of resentment hit the back of her eyelids, but she blinked them away.

  With a deep inhale, she pulled down the mirror and checked her meagre makeup. The mascara hadn’t run over her cheeks, and though her eyes looked glazed, she could always blame it on allergies. Pursing her lips, she resolved not to let the idiotic cop get to her and instead got the car back on the road, heading to work.

  ♥∞♥

  Cassandra poured herself a cup of coffee, trying to ignore the guy hovering at her back. When his presence lingered, she glanced over her shoulder – only to catch him staring at her ass.

  “Can I help you?” She couldn’t keep the bite out of her voice, especially after the morning run-in with Sean.

  When he noticed her addressing him, the guy blushed a dark crimson and moved away, mumbling something under his breath. Cassandra sighed into her cup, wishing he’d either come outright and say something, or stop being creepy.

  Shaking her head at the crap day that was unfolding, she went back to her desk and sipped her beverage, scrolling through the news. Working at The Gazette had the benefit of always being in the midst of the action, and yet never having time to enjoy it.

  After a few moments of respite, Cassandra opened a new document and started typing.

  “Cass!” Someone called to her not even moments later, and she snapped her head up from the document she was working on to look into Renzo’s gentle brown gaze.

  Her best friend had a casual look going, from the faded dark jeans to the navy shirt he wore, and the ruffled hair. Cassandra cracked a smile at his expression, until his next words made her frown. “What are you still doing here?”

  “Still? It’s only –” A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was way past four, and she’d been in earlier than seven. “Whoops.”

  “Lost track of time again?” Renzo – short for Lorenzo – chuckled, then leaned over her shoulder to read. “You do know the deadline for the piece on the lobbyists isn’t until next week. Always ahead, when you should be getting some sleep for a change.”

  “Can’t,” Cassandra rolled her eyes. “And it’s not the lobbyist piece I’m working on, but my resignation letter. I told you I was quitting, remember? Besides, once this is done, I’ll have enough time for resting and relaxing.”

  Renzo’s smile slipped off and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you were joking about that.”

  Cassandra snorted, then turned to her computer. “Of course you would.”

  Noticing her tone, Renzo pulled a chair and plopped down on it, closer to Cassandra’s desk. “What’s gotten up your butt today?”

  “You mean besides the jackass cop that won’t leave me alone and the stalker in the eating area here?” She glanced at him, then sighed and turned his way. “I can’t, Renzo. I thought this was what I wanted to do, and I mean the internship was cool at first. But I want to feel part of something.”

  “And the freedom of speech, the sharing we do here, is not enough?”

  Cassandra threw him a look. “You know full well it isn’t. I’ve liked it, sure, and you know I’m as good a wordsmith as any of them. But I’m not in it for the social climbing… Plus, I can’t help feeling that the longer I’m in the media zone, the more there’s a chance of someone finding out about me.”

  Renzo’s expression softened, having captured the quiver in her voice. “I get that, Cass, I do. But you can’t live in fear of your family’s drama being splashed on front page news… It’s no way to go about your life, or making decisions.”

  “Maybe.” Cassandra turned back to her screen, and the half-completed resignation letter. “But it’s what I’m feeling right now.”

  Renzo was quiet for a moment, then he touched her shoulder, waiting until she faced him once more. “What about the volunteering? Do you want me to come with you to another soup kitchen?”

  Cassandra laughed at that, recalling the last time he’d joined her and alienated everyone with his questions. Subtle about his money, her friend was not. “No, thanks,” she finally managed to get out. “Maybe around Christmas, but for now, I really want to focus on me.”

  Renzo stared in her eyes for a beat longer than necessary, then stood. “All right. I know nothing will change your mind, but I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “I do.”

  He was about to leave, but turned at the last moment. “You’re still coming tonight, right?”

  Renzo’s dad owned a club in downtown Montreal, and it was summer opening night. Cassandra grinned, thinking of the fun awaiting them. “Need you ask? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Once Renzo left, she focused her attention on the letter. Less than ten minutes later, Cassandra printed her resignation letter and headed into her boss’ office. The Gazette was a fun enough place for a career, but all good things eventually come to an end.

  Time to go home.

  ♥∞♥

  The drive to her neighbourhood in northern Montréal was non-eventful, and Cassandra breathed a relieved sigh when she parked in front of
her small bungalow. Though nothing like the villa in Tuscany her birth parents had called home, it was cozy and met her needs – it also helped her keep a low profile. Amid the young couples and students renting in the area, Cassandra didn’t stand out.

  Some would say twenty-one was too young to own a home, but Cassandra had been nothing but careful with her inheritance money. At the end of the day, it had come down to need: an absolute, essential need to have her own place and not answer to anyone but herself.

  Like most days, the first thing she did upon getting in the house was swap her flats and jeans for running shoes and shorts, then hit the road. After the stress of the day, the only way she could relax was with a good jog around the neighbourhood.

  One leg in front of the other, the music blasting in her ears, Cassandra let the stress of yet another pathetic day pour out of her. But even as she jogged, her mind kept going back to the events of the past hours, and frustration rose like a tidal wave, making her breathing choppy. She tried to control it and think about something else.

  Renzo’s sympathetic expression flashed through her mind, bringing an uneven smile to her lips. Why can’t I find a guy like him, instead of attracting idiots?

  As if on cue, her music was interrupted by an incoming call. Cassandra pressed a button on her smartphone to answer. “Renzo?”

  “Hey, gorgeous.” Though his tone was smiling, Cassandra knew he meant nothing by it. Their instant connection had been of the sibling variety, not the passion type. “Just wanted to hear how the notice went.” A pause, then, “Bad time?”

  Cassandra coughed up a laugh, then halted in the shade of a tree. “I’m out running, smartass. Only you would think of something perverted.”

  Renzo’s good-natured laugh vibrated through her headphones, and Cassandra grinned in response. On top of being kind and generous, Renzo was strong when needed and always lent a shoulder for crying. He’d even managed to make hanging out at a club fun – something she was actually looking forward to for that night.

  “It went as expected,” she answered his previous question. “Editor-in-chief didn’t want me to leave, then when I wouldn’t budge he switched to threats that I wasn’t giving him enough notice and he’d pursue it in court.”

  Renzo cursed something unintelligible in the phone, then said, “What did you tell him?”

  “To shove it up his bumhole.” Cassandra recovered from her giggle, then admitted, “No, seriously, I told him he can’t stop me from leaving and that I’d heard enough dirt to put him out of a job. He quieted enough after I gave a few examples, and let me be on my way.”

  There was a silence for a beat, then Renzo said, “Maybe I should talk to him.”

  “Uh, no!” Cassandra winced at her loud tone and brought her voice down. “Renzo, your last name is about as famous as mine is. If the boss hasn’t yet made the connection, what’s the point of pushing it? You really want the paparazzi on your tail, too?”

  Renzo sighed on the line. “You’re right, as always. I know my dad’s ways weren’t always legal, but he’s still my dad and I’d rather not have him dragged through the mud again.” Another pause, then, “But you’re coming tonight, right?”

  “I already said yes,” Cassandra rolled her eyes. “But for the record, yes, I am. I wouldn’t miss getting tipsy and a night of dancing with you for anything! Is your dad coming?”

  The only thing that made their usual hangout nights better was Fabio Moretti’s stories – and the dramatic Italian flair he delivered them in.

  “He didn’t say, but maybe. I’ll let the security guys know, so see you in a few.”

  Before Cassandra could say bye, Renzo hung up and her playlist restarted – with a love song. She scowled at her phone before shuffling through the list until she found a good enough beat.

  It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in dating – only that she wasn’t interested in love, or sex. A broken heart at a young age was enough experience, as far as she was concerned. Plus, most guys – the ones that weren’t outright cretins – found her personality too strong and intimidating. And if that wasn’t it, they had an issue with her no sex policy and didn’t stick past a few dates.

  Shaking her head, Cassandra tried to clear it of relationship ideas and instead picked up her pace. As she ran around a corner, her smile slipped off, and she hesitated for about a millisecond. A group of four teenagers, probably only sixteen, were laughing and joking in the distance, blocking the way. They looked exactly like the kind of guys to appreciate the sight of a girl running… More than they should.

  Mentally, Cassandra scanned her outfit – decent jogging shorts, tank top, sneakers. She’d dressed out of habit, but was rethinking it as she passed by them. Awareness crept up her back, notifying her she had ventured outside her neighbourhood, and with kids their age, they were only interested in one thing: showing off to their buddies, which always led to stupid decisions.

  And she wasn’t looking forward to being the object of their attention. Cassandra had learned the hard way to be realistic as far was her life was concerned.

  If those kids are dumb enough to try anything, I can easily take them on. Father’s aikido training might just come in handy. The thought did nothing to reassure her, but Cassandra pushed past her misgivings and kept her pace.

  She heaved a sigh as she got closer, trying to jog past the teenagers. No sooner had she moved near their circle that they nudged each other and turned to face her.

  “Hey,” one guy’s lips moved and he grabbed Cassandra’s elbow when she was passing him. “Where are you going, chérie?”

  Why can't they ever keep their hands to themselves? The thought rushed through her in an angry blaze.

  Renzo always maintained that all a guy had to do to get a girl to notice him was be nice. Clearly, he and the teenagers belonged to different planets. Cassandra breathed in and turned the music off with her free hand. Though she tried to speak as calmly as she could, her eyes narrowed on his hand. “Let go of me.”

  It was her best attempt at being civil and Cassandra willed herself to make it work. If her mood had been angry before, the kid’s reaction sparked a new fuse.

  He smiled, then looked to his buddies for approval while tightening his grip. Great. That’s going to leave a bruise. But then again, so will I!

  Cassandra gritted her teeth and drew her free hand back, about to punch him. Before she could follow through, she was side-tracked – a rare occurrence. But in the particular situation, it was unavoidable.

  The moment she moved, a black, sleek muscle car stopped right beside them in a squeal of tires. If she had known at the time who was driving, Cassandra would have run away as if the devil himself was chasing her.

  Or she would have thrown an explosive at it – either option was as feasible as the last.

  However, she had no idea what was coming her way.

  ♥ Chapter 3 ♥

  When Damon’s plane landed, he thought it was the worst of the flight. Despite his military training, flying was not something he particularly enjoyed. Yet getting out of the Montréal airport turned out to be hell, and not only because of the flag on his passport. Canada kept an eye on foreign operations being handled on its own soil, which meant as soon as someone scanned his papers, he was stuck.

  Despite the urge to storm out, Damon forced himself to stay calm and surrender placidly. He submitted to a full line of questioning and inquiry by a constable of the Canada Border Services Agency. After three hours of checking his credentials, it was a call to Derek that quieted everyone down.

  The old man had enough wiggle room and power left that he placed a call to British ambassador in Canada, who in turn contacted the superiors of the CBSA and had Damon released. This after strongly emphasizing he was to check in should he leave Québec to head on to another province.

  It was all Damon could to keep the impatience from showing until he was free, carry-on bag and all.

  His team arranged to meet him by the Vieux Port,
so he headed over in a taxi. When he asked the driver to drop him off in front of an abandoned warehouse, the elderly man took one look at his bulky frame and the tattoo on his neck and reversed out of empty parking lot so fast, Damon had to keep from laughing.

  The area was deserted despite mid-afternoon. Containers littered the ground as far as the eye could see. Ugly industrial buildings with their paint falling off and broken windows completed the décor.

  Despite the calm appearances, Damon scoured the surroundings to make sure no one had followed him. Occupational hazard or paranoia, the case could be made for either. Satisfied he was alone, he started walking towards the darkest of all warehouses – it had a red X painted under a window, a signal earlier agreed upon.

  He barely passed the rusted entrance when metal by his temple pulled him to a complete stop. Judging by the round object pressed against his temple and its sheer weight, he guessed it was a gun.

  “Identify yourself.”

  The voice was more a growl, and out of the corner of his eye Damon could see another built guy, a head shorter than himself, but muscled like the a bodybuilder. Despite words he could have interpreted as panicked, the man’s hand didn’t shake.

  The soldier in him scanned his opponent’s attire. Jeans and simple white t-shirt, commando boots, shaved head and taut posture – it was easy to recognize a comrade.

  “I’m Damon Voight, from Pennington Securities.”

  The man paused for a beat, then asked, “Got any ID?”

  Damon nodded and lifted his palms a little at a time. “I’m reaching for it, don’t shoot.”

  Once he pulled out the ID and the man had a closer look, he lowered his firearm. His previously tense posture relaxed into a semblance of regular civilian. He even cracked a grin and clapped his back.

  “Welcome to your base, boss.”

  Damon let out a sigh of relief and turned to him, only then noticing his shadow. In the background was a younger man in his late teens, with glasses and a freckled face. His reddish hair stood in contrast to the darkness of the place.

  “And you guys are?”

 

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