She hesitated to answer, wary of the string of questions that would follow. The tell-tale crease in Renzo’s brow could only mean he was annoyed – and he rarely got so with her.
Cassandra finally nodded. “Yeah, just had a few too many drinks.”
“It was more than one, the way Sam told it,” Renzo muttered, now scowling. “Not that I don’t approve you having fun for a change. But getting wasted when you obviously have a lot on your mind might not be the best idea.”
“Maybe I just needed a blank slate for a few hours.” She glared back, but gave up when it made her head hurt.
“Looks like you got that,” Renzo said. He waited a beat, then asked, “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Cassandra only shut her eyes again, hoping her pitiful demeanour would be enough to deter him from questioning her further. To his credit, Renzo gave her another few moments of respite before his impatience got the best of him. “Is it the guy Sam saw you with?”
Sighing, Cassandra faced her best friend. “Not exactly.” The Frenchman’s face flashed briefly in her mind, before being replaced by Damon’s inscrutable eyes.
Renzo’s intent expression didn’t break, and Cassandra knew it was time to come clean. Besides, maybe he can figure a way out of this mess that’s eluding me.
With that in mind, she motioned the waitress for a glass of water and started speaking. “Do you remember when I told you the reason I wasn’t looking for a steady relationship?”
“Yeah,” Renzo’s voice was gentle, no more reproach left in it. “You said a guy crushed your dreams of a happily ever after. What about it?”
His non-judgemental tone, in that moment, made Cassandra love him all the more. Their friendship had an unspoken agreement of permanent honesty, but it wasn’t always easy when one feared reprisal. With Renzo, Cassandra didn’t.
It was that, more than anything that confirmed she was doing the right telling him at least part of the story. As her silence lengthened, Renzo reached for her, but let his hand drop halfway when she spoke again.
“What did I tell you about my parents, once we started becoming friends?”
Renzo seemed confused at the question, but thought back to that first time he’d brought Cassandra to the club, and the night of chatting that followed. “I remember we talked a bit about your birth parents, and you mentioned they were of French and Italian ancestry… That your dad was heir to an estate in Italy, rich but unhappy in life until he met your mom, a countess. Or was she a duchess?”
Cassandra shook her head, whispering, “Countess. Neither wanted to marry someone of their station because of how superficial that aristocratic world is, but they fell in love with each other at first sight despite their fortunes and upbringings.”
Renzo sighed dramatically, lifting his free hand to his heart. “If only I could get so lucky!”
It got a chuckle out of Cassandra, which soon died out recalling how her parents hadn’t had their happily ever after. “When, um, they died…”
She paused, taking another deep breath. Renzo glanced around their area, which had emptied out as more of the VIPs went to the lower level to dance. “Do you want me to take you home? We can continue this later.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m good. I made peace with their death a while ago, but I can’t forget what they taught me.”
“Nor should you…”
“It’s not what my adoptive father said.” Cassandra pursed her lips, but try as she might the bitterness flowed in her words. “When my parents died, they left me everything. I don’t even know what the fortune amounts to now, since I’ve barely touched it and left it to an accountant to handle. But Viktor, for adopting me, received five million American dollars…yearly.”
Renzo gaped at the figure, though he was used to rather copious sums of money himself between the club and his father’s own investments. “Damn, girl. That’s a nice bonus as compensation for raising you. So why would he tell you to forget what your parents taught you?”
“He wanted to mould me to his image, and that meant forgetting everything that was European about me, and turning North-American.” Flashes of more than one fight flitted through her mind, but Cassandra pushed the painful memories away. “He was verbally abusive, enough so to make me doubt everything about myself. While that may have worked on his wife, it didn’t on me. And that’s when Damon walked in.”
“Damon?” Renzo leaned in, catching the hitch in her tone that revealed how relevant the name was to her story.
“Yeah. He interned for Viktor and ran errands for him. We got to know each other after a while, and he sympathized with me having to get used to an entirely different way of life in Canada. He had a way about him that encouraged trust, and I fell head over heels for him.”
Renzo opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to rethink it as he asked in a softer voice, “How old was this guy?”
“Three years my senior. And on my birthday one year, we ended up kissing. We allowed ourselves be at our most vulnerable point and I stupidly thought it would always be like that. That every bad thing in my life was finally replaced by a good one. And that, for once, it would last.”
Cassandra took a deep breath, blinking back the tears that threatened. “You have to understand, it’s not like I used to go around falling in love. My birth parents, they taught me the value of love from a young age, and I’ve always been looking for that.”
Renzo grabbed her hand in his, squeezing it. “What happened, Cass?”
She shrugged, wiping at the corner of her eye with her free hand. “The day after the kiss, Damon vanished without a word, without so much as a goodbye. Viktor told me he left to pursue a great career, and I shouldn’t be holding him back. So…I let go. But I never forgot, nor allowed myself to get so close to another man.”
“Cass....” Renzo’s eyes weren’t full of pity, but rather of comprehension. He let go of her hand and opened his arms, wrapping them around her when she buried her face in his neck. “You didn’t deserve that. You’ve been through so much, you didn’t need more.”
No words moved past the lump in her throat, so Cassandra only nodded in his chest. More tears stung her eyes first, then the sobs followed. For long moments, Renzo held her and allowed her tears to soak his shirt. He kept silent, patting her head and whispering soothing words until she regained control over her emotions.
When she tried to pull away from his arms, he shifted his weight so she rested against his side, leaning her head against his shoulder. With his free hand, he gave her a handkerchief.
A laugh bubbled out of Cassandra, as surprising as a unicorn appearing in that moment. “Old-fashioned much, Renzo?”
His shoulder lifted in a shrug. “What can I say? Some girls like old-fashioned guys.”
“And the right one’s waiting for you, somewhere.”
Renzo made a noncommittal sound, then cleared his throat. “So… This Damon guy’s back?”
Cassandra sat up at that, biting on her lower lip. “Yeah. And he’s not in town just for kicks, apparently.”
Renzo’s expression turned even more suspicious. “Meaning?”
“Damon says Viktor’s involved in some shady dealings, and he’s here to try to stop him. I, um, might’ve offered to help.”
Since they were close, Cassandra felt Renzo’s body tense, even before his tone gave away his incredulity. “You what?” He searched her gaze, shaking his head when she only looked away. “I don’t believe this. Why torture yourself, Cass? No offense, but this Damon guy seems like a dumbass, from what you’ve told me. A manipulative dumbass. The most dangerous kind. Why–”
Cassandra interrupted him. “Because I have a score to settle with Damon, questions I want answered. Plus, running away would be useless. It would only give Damon false ideas about feelings I may have.”
There was a short silence as Renzo assessed her expression. “Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Have any feeling
s left for him.”
“No!”
Cassandra’s reply was sharper than intended, but Renzo didn’t take offense. If anything, the slight widening of his eyes hinted he saw something in her reaction that was definitely concerning, and to a deep degree.
“I swear, Renzo, Damon is a part of my past.”
Despite her convincing words, she was aware of the fact that the past could haunt, and even come back. Damon Voight was living proof of that.
Renzo, to her surprise, let the matter slide, true to form. Instead of lecturing her, he hugged her, then flashed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Alright, Cass. I’m going to call my dad, see if he knows anything about Viktor’s supposedly illicit activities.”
“Oh, speaking of! Your dad was here earlier.”
“He was?” Renzo looked around as if expecting Fabio to materialize. “Where is he now? Maybe I’ll just ask him in person.”
“Not sure, he kind of took off… Maybe a phone call would be best.”
Renzo shrugged, then headed to the exit staircase. Before leaving, he turned back one more time. “If you need me, you know how to find me.” With his face in shadows, she couldn’t read his expression. However, his tone was full of undertones as he said, “Take care, Cass.”
In the next heartbeat, he left and she was alone with her thoughts.
Cassandra sighed, knowing she didn't fool him, just as she couldn't lie to herself. But she was a survivor, always had been, and she resolved to act as one. Damon can go to hell. His return wouldn’t ruin everything she had worked for in the last years.
Pressure in her bladder turned her musings inwards, and to the immediate need to use a washroom. But as Cassandra followed in Renzo’s steps and went down the stairs, a familiar tingle raced up her spine. She stopped in her tracks at the bottom of the stairs, sure of one thing: Someone’s watching me.
Taking a page out of a movie, Cassandra pretended to stumble and bent down. Her hair fell around her face like a curtain, and she darted a quick glance around her, then out in the crowd. No particular person stood out, which only left more questions. Yet the feeling was still present, an eerie warning that seemed to echo Renzo’s last words.
It can't hurt to be more careful than usual.
Straightening up, she slipped out of the booth and headed to the bathroom located at the back.
On her way there, the commotion by the men’s washroom caught her eye. Cops swarmed the entrance, and inside it, some paramedics were working on an unconscious man. But it was the guy in a white shirt stained with blood that caught her attention, and her heart beat faster.
“Damon?”
The devil of her thoughts turned around, a flash of something crossing his face. Behind him, she saw the last face she wanted to, and attempted to keep her expression neutral.
“Cassandra.”
Sean’s oily voice raked her, as did the way his eyes traveled up and down her body. But even more so was the way he stood close to Damon, hand on his gun as if he was a threat.
“What the hell are you doing?” Cassandra stomped over, glaring at Sean and forgetting all about her lady needs.
Damon’s arm wrapped around her waist, stopping her from going further in. “No need for you to see this.”
She glanced up at him, noticing the tight jaw and flashing eyes. When Damon didn’t elaborate, she turned to Sean. “What’s going on?”
“You know this guy?” Sean narrowed his eyes.
Cassandra didn’t like where he was going with the question, nor the way he kept looking at Damon – like he was one step away from arrest. Behind him, the paramedics were loading the unconscious man onto a stretcher.
“I asked you a question, officer,” she glared back. At the reminder of his rank, Sean finally snapped to.
“Someone stabbed an unidentified male in the men’s bathroom. We’re looking at all options, but right now your friend is a person of interest.”
Cassandra glanced at Damon, noticing the apologetic look in his eyes.
“Well, I find that hard to believe,” she retorted, tearing her gaze from his. “Damon was with me this entire evening, and if you need further confirmation you can ask Renzo, who manages the club. You know, Lorenzo Moretti, Fabrizio Moretti’s son.”
Sean paled at the thought of going around a Mafioso’s spawn. Like all cops in the area, he was well aware of Fabio’s past as an enforcer for the Italian mob. Despite his now rather more legal dealings, no one wanted to mess with him. Plus, he still had the chief of police in his pocket, something Cassandra was well aware of.
“Now, are we done here?”
When Sean grunted something about not leaving town, Cassandra grabbed Damon and pulled him through the exit door. It was only once they were outside, in the semi-privacy of a badly lit alleyway, that she turned around to face him.
“What the hell happened?”
♥ Chapter 10 ♥
Now how the hell am I supposed to tell her what happened, without scaring her shitless?
Damon took to pacing to avoid Cassandra’s sharp gaze. He ran a hand over his face, trying to figure the least damaging option in the long run. Judging by the tapping of her foot, he was running out of time and Cassandra was losing patience.
As though hearing his thoughts, she muttered, “Anytime now.”
Damon stopped moving, out of options. “Why did you run off, after what happened with those two guys?”
Cassandra blinked at him, then broke eye contact. “Does it matter?”
“It does to me.”
“I needed space, ok? Is that what you wanted to hear? That despite how well I handled myself, the fact remains two people tried to attack us. And according to you, they meant to kidnap me and kill you.”
Damon frowned at the way her voice broke on that last bit of information. “I wouldn’t have thought you cared, from the way you’ve been acting.”
Cassandra met his gaze then, and something in her expression softened. She gave no answer, instead cocking her hip and folding her arms across her chest – and looking sexy as hell.
Damon got side-tracked by her stance, but when she cleared her throat in irritation, he snapped to. “They didn’t find you by chance, and I’ve already mentioned that you’re in danger.”
If he expected that would be enough to pacify her, he was dead wrong. Cassandra only arched an eyebrow, plainly expecting him to continue.
“They knew enough to realize you’d be here, Cass. Probably have a file on you that gave them all the details, including your closeness with the club’s owner.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because I’ve got one, too.” Damon stepped closer, getting tired of the space between them. “How are you, after what happened?”
“I’ll live.” Cassandra’s eyes narrowed with each step Damon took towards her. “But if you want to ease my mind, answer me this: why did I find you with cops, and what the hell does all this have to do with Viktor?”
Damon cringed. “The cops, that’s a different story. As for Viktor, I wish I knew.” Cassandra didn’t immediately refute his evasive answers, so he changed tactics. “Why would you come here, a club, of all places?”
The question destabilized Cassandra enough to answer. “It’s a form of therapy. The loud music stops me from thinking, and at least I’m not at home wallowing.” She bit her lip on the last confession, as though she hadn’t meant to say as much.
“Is that all it is?” When Cassandra frowned, Damon stepped closer still. “Or is there more to it?” He was near enough that she had to tilt her head to look at him.
“What are you going on about now?”
“Lorenzo, your buddy. What’s he to you?”
Cassandra’s mouth fell open as if she couldn’t believe her ears, then she snapped it shut and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Really? You have a right to ask that?”
“Cass, I –”
“No, don’t you even freaking dare.” Lips pursed, she lifted
a hand to shut him up. “It is none of your business what Renzo is or isn’t to me. Your precious intelligence should have told you as much. But what I’d like for you to do is stop dancing around the subject and tell me why the hell Sean was about to arrest you. Then maybe I can figure out how much trouble I got myself into by lying for you!”
With her little rant, Cassandra ended up closer and they were almost chest to chest. Her soft fragrance wafted and it was all Damon could do not to give in and kiss her until they both got on the same page. Instead, he latched on to the easiest thing she’d said.
“Why did you lie?” When her eyes flashed, he hastened to add, “Answer me that one thing, and I’ll tell you the rest, I swear.”
Cassandra stared at him for a moment, and in the dim light Damon couldn’t quite make sense of her expression. Then she sighed heavily and looked away. “I don’t know. It’s just… I'm acquainted with Sean, and he’s not the best cop around. Maybe I didn’t want you at his mercy.”
She looked backed at him then with a wry smile. “Though somehow, I have a hard time imagining you at anyone’s mercy – ever.”
The moment was too good to pass up on, so Damon seized it and closed up the last of the distance. Cassandra was surprised, arms falling to the side, and swayed on her heels. It gave him the perfect chance to grab onto her elbow to hold her up, pulling her body into his.
“There is only one person I’m interested in giving that power to,” he whispered while staring in her eyes, “and that’s you.”
The faint light of a street lamp shone on Cassandra’s face and he had a front-row seat to her shock. Damon’s eyes drifted down to her lips, and leaned his forehead closer to hers.
Cassandra’s breath hitched, and his heartbeat sped up. Time was suspended for that one moment. But rather than take what she might willingly give, Damon reluctantly tore himself away and let her go, stepping back.
“A deal’s a deal,” he stated. “Thank you for covering for me, though you are right – your buddy Sean couldn’t touch me even if he wanted to.”
“He’s not my buddy.” Cassandra’s adamant mutter had Damon bite back a chuckle.
Blood Ties, Love Binds Page 8