Blood Ties, Love Binds

by Alexa Whitewolf

  “Villa Manzoni?” Vittorio asked, and she blinked in surprise. There had been a faded golden plaque on the outside gates with those exact words. But how did he know?

  Rather than bother with questions that could wait, Cassandra nodded. “Yes.”

  There was a scuffle on the other side of the line, and orders barked in Italian. Sounds of engines starting followed, both smooth and harsh. Guns being loaded, and more background echoes. The rapidity of it stunned Cassandra into silence, at least until Vittorio returned on the line.

  “What kind of trouble, cara? How many men?”

  Cassandra glanced out the window again. “Albanian mob kind, and if I was to guess, about thirty.”

  More barked orders resounded, then Vittorio was back. “Stay inside the house, I will be there soon.” Cassandra’s stomach dropped in relief, but she didn’t get to speak her gratitude. “Stay inside, cara. Whatever happens.”

  “Okay,” she said, and he hung up.

  It was only after the fact that Cassandra realized the implication of her phone call. She’d signed the death warrant of the men outside. They had families of their own – maybe. Did they deserve this? She could not be their judge, jury and executioner. But somehow, it seemed fitting that Vittorio would be.

  ♥∞♥

  The jet got him to Italy in the promised hour, and a sleek Italian motorcycle with a full tank of gas awaited him when he got off the plane. Damon made a mental note to thank Lucien – or at least not go after him for being a foolish old man.

  He set all thoughts aside and hopped onto the motorcycle, breaking traffic laws on his way to Cassandra’s estate. Thirty minutes of a drive with twice the speed limit later, he still hadn’t caught the eye of any cops.

  But when he got to the estate, Damon almost wished he had. More cars than he’d counted on surrounded the villa, and from the look of it the men were well armed. There would be no walking free of this.

  Without slowing down, Damon reached for his gun. Since I have the element of surprise, might as well use it. He revved his engine, and the motorcycle shot forward, as if eager for blood. The men were either not expecting company or too cocky in their own right, as they took too long to turn around.

  By the time they did, Damon had already gunned two down, and steered the bike in a semi-circle around them. He zigzagged between cars, the sleek ride too quick for them to catch him. Four more men dropped, but he knew the wounds might not be fatal.

  Damon’s quick movement and reflexes helped him evade their counter shots, leaning left and right on the bike to duck them. The click of an empty gun didn’t slow him down. He tossed it to the side and reached for his spare, continuing the rampage.

  “Damon!”

  His mistake was looking up, fearing someone had gotten past him and to Cass. He breathed in relief when he saw she was up by a shot-out window, but it was too late for him. The split-second was enough for one of the bastards to shoot out his back tire.

  The motorcycle squealed on the sandy pavement, and Damon hopped off it, landing a few meters ahead. A first bullet in his shoulder had him wince, and he gunned down the shooter. He went to aim for the next man, but the motorcycle smacked into him with its last breath.

  Damon’s gun flew out of his hand, and he hit the ground – hard. Three of the men headed over and pulled him out from under the motorcycle, holding him for a fourth one.

  Dressed in a suit, gelled hair and cold eyes, the leader was pulling on his cigar. “Perfect timing. Now we can negotiate.”

  He turned to the window, grinning towards Cassandra. Then he reached inside his vest and pulled out a gun, aiming it at Damon’s head in clear challenge.

  ♥∞♥

  Cassandra knew what Damon’s gaze was telling her, to stay away and not move. She hadn’t expected him to show up, let alone start a one-man crusade against this many of them. And now he was exactly where she’d been trying to avoid.

  “What the hell was he thinking?” She muttered, running down the stairs. Vittorio’s instructions were clear, but there was no way she was letting Damon get killed.

  Cassandra glanced at her wrist watch. Vittorio hadn’t given an expected time of arrival, but it had been twenty minutes since their call. She could only hope he would be here soon. Tucking the gun in the back of her jeans, she opened the door and walked out.

  Her eyes were on the leader, but she couldn’t help glancing over at Damon. “Don’t do this,” he said, before being head-butted with a gun. He fell silent, but his eyes were shooting daggers at his captors.

  Cassandra focused on the boss. “Let him go, you have what you want.”

  “I do not think so. You’ve been a pain in our ass, Miss DiCavalier. But a chip to bargain with you seems to be in our favour.”

  Cassandra wanted to wipe the smirk off his face, but she knew impulsive behaviour was the last thing they needed. “You want money, right? Then tell me where to sign.”

  The man stepped closer, and Damon struggled against his captors. One of them punched him, but it didn’t stop him from trying to retaliate. Another hit to his head had him slump in their arms, unconscious.

  The violence of their actions stunned Cassandra into silence. He’ll be fine. He has to be.

  When the leader was only a few steps away from Cassandra, he looked her up and down. Then he grinned, and something sparked in his eyes. “I have a better idea. We’ll recruit you for our harem, and once you’re nice and broken in, then we can talk about your money.”

  Cassandra willed herself not to react, but still her fists clenched, giving her away. The leader laughed at her expression, then turned to his men. “You can take care of him. No mess. Make it quick, by the water, and dump the body in.”

  At the boss' signal, his men grabbed the unconscious Damon by the arms, and dragged him to the edges of the lake. Cassandra watched them disappear, her heart thudding in her chest.

  She arched an eyebrow at the boss. “And now what?”

  He smirked and held out his hand to her, as if inviting her for a dance. “And now, you come with me to my manor, where we can do some private business.”

  Cassandra nodded, bowing her head as if resigned to the outcome. Inside, she was boiling with anger. She handed the man her left hand, and waited until he turned away, intending to drag her with him.

  The moment he did, she used her free hand to reach for the gun at her back. She kicked with the heel of her foot in the back of his knee, and he cried out as a resounding crack filled the air. He fell on his knees, and Cassandra used the momentum to grab his neck in a tight hold, close to strangling him. She pointed the gun at his temple.

  Shock and fear radiated in his entire body, and she smirked. The two remaining guys around them drew their weapons and pointed them at Cassandra, but she used the boss’ body to shield herself. If they shot, they’d kill their boss first, her second.

  Cassandra put her mouth close to his ear. “Tell them to drop their guns. Now.”

  She felt his Adam’s apple move as he gulped. “Drop your weapons!” As the men hesitated, her hold tightened, and she took the safety off the gun. “Now!” He choked, and the men grudgingly threw the guns at Cassandra’s feet.

  Now what? The clock is ticking.

  Damon had disappeared with the men a few minutes earlier. Cassandra knew from her childhood it took at least ten to walk to the lake, but who was to say they’d wait until then to kill Damon?

  Rather than take any chances, Cassandra moved the gun and shot at each of the men. At such close range, she hit their knees or shoulders – flesh wounds that would heal. When they were all groaning in pain, she pistol-whipped the boss.

  Leaving the unconscious man behind, she took off on a run towards the lake – and Damon.

  Please let him be alive.

  ♥ Chapter 23 ♥

  Cass is still in danger.

  That thought had all of Damon’s focus when he came to, his head pounding. He was being dragged down a dusty road, and he coun
ted two men’s shuffle of feet. After a few more moments, he was tossed to the ground.

  “Boss said to do it at the lake.”

  There was a laugh, and a different man spoke. “What the boss don’t know won’t hurt him.”

  Damon heard the tell-tale sound of the safety being taken off a gun, and waited until he felt the cold steel pressed against the back of his head.

  “Foolish stranger…”

  “Will you hurry up already?” The man’s comrade muttered something in Albanian, but the damage was done.

  Their banter provided the distraction Damon needed to jump into action. He rolled on his back and gripped the gun, forcing its aim towards the second man. He shot three times, and the poor sucker dropped to the ground, clutching his bleeding chest.

  The Albanian who was holding the gun recovered from his mistake and punched Damon. They rolled on the ground, and Damon was able to manoeuvre the gun away. He head-butted the guy with the weapon, and the man went limp.

  Stumbling away, losing blood from his shoulder wound, Damon was more aware than ever in that moment of his mortality. But he refused to die without telling Cassandra he loved her.

  He cursed the hand of fate that had put them together only to pull them apart.

  ♥∞♥

  Cassandra ran up the path, appearing to the top just in time to see Damon wrestle with one of the Albanians. She watched as he won and stumbled to his feet, gun in hand.

  His tired gaze lifted and he saw her in the distance. Relief spread on his face, but Cassandra screamed in horror.

  “Damon, watch out!”

  A few meters behind him had appeared a third man, and he was aiming his pistol towards Damon. She pointed her gun and shot at him, but missed. Her movement was enough to clue Damon to the danger.

  He whirled around, dropping to a knee and shooting back. In the open field, her boyfriend was too easy of a target, and two more men showed up. Where the hell are they coming from?

  Only did then did Cassandra realize that the forces she’d seen from the window were not the only ones in the area. It was too late to correct her mistake, but she wasn’t about to let Damon be killed.

  For a moment, she was distracted by noise in the distance. She glanced towards the villa, noticing the cloud of dust on the path leading to the house. Sounds of a helicopter gave her hope that police had arrived.

  Ducking and running with newfound eagerness, Cassandra lifted her gun and shot in the direction of the newcomers, hoping her blind aim nabbed at least a few of them, even if only with nonfatal wounds.

  The unconscious Albanian knocked out by Damon got off the ground, reaching for his partner’s gun. Cassandra saw the man shoot, and without thinking slammed into him from behind. The surprise attack offered her the upper hand, and Cassandra used it to put him in a headlock until he went limp.

  Cassandra then turned to Damon. He was grappling with the last of the newcomers, taking as many hits as he was delivering. A gun went off between them, and Cassandra yelled. She aimed her own gun and shot twice at the guy, then ran over. She kept thinking of the two gunshot wounds she hadn’t been able to stop.

  She slid to the ground next to Damon’s too white face, and her worst fears were confirmed. Blood was seeping from a stomach wound. Cassandra tore his shirt off and pressed it on the wound.

  “Damon!” Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she tried to choke them back. “Don’t do this, you need to hold on. I’m so sorry for leaving, for not listening to you. I love you, Damon. Please...”

  He blinked, staring at the sky for a second before meeting her gaze. The green eyes she loved were clouded and unfocused, but Damon opened his mouth, trying to speak. The effort turned out to be too much, and his head rolled to one side.

  For a frightening few seconds, Cassandra was afraid he’d died right in her arms. But then she checked for his pulse, and found it – weak, but consistent. She saw his smiling face in her mind, and his eyes, full of love for her.

  I want to look into those eyes again, and I’ll be damned if I let him die on me.

  “I will not lose you, Damon,” she whispered fiercely in his ear. “Not after all we’ve been through. We deserve another chance.”

  Heaving under his weight, but pumped with adrenaline, Cassandra managed to get Damon’s arm around her shoulders and drag him to the house. She kept the t-shirt pressed to his stomach, trying as much as she could to staunch the blood flow.

  When they got back to the villa, she realized it wasn’t a helicopter she’d heard – and that was definitely not police cleaning up. It was Vittorio and his men.

  Among the many moving about, grabbing bodies and stuffing them in cars, one man in a suit turned to her. He was tall, board shouldered with eyes the color of pure onyx.

  He coolly assessed Damon’s half-unconscious body leaning over her, and nodded to one of his men, barking an order in Italian. Cassandra tried to protest when Damon was taken away from her, but Vittorio was there, restraining her.

  “He will not harm your man, only bring him to the closest hospital. I know the dottore there, he will take good care of him. Besides, he is a devil, yes?”

  Cassandra stared at him in confusion, and he grinned, his gleaming white teeth shining in the sun. “Damon is his name, no?”

  “How do you know…” Cassandra trailed off at Vittorio’s amused look. “I guess you had enough time to do research on your way here?”

  “Quite the contrary, cara. No research was needed, because only one person alive would have known to give you my contact.” He paused, then said, “Lucien filled me in.”

  “Ah.” A second later, a short laugh escaped her. “Then yeah, I guess you could say Damon is a devil.” She looked in the distance, where the car carrying her boyfriend had disappeared in a cloud of dust.

  “Come,” Vittorio said and walked to a black limousine. “I will bring you to the hospital, and it gives us time to talk.”

  Cassandra followed him to the car, wiping at her face. Sheer exhaustion settled in her shoulders, and once she fell onto the leather seat, her body only wanted to curl up and sleep.

  Vittorio seemed to understand this as he poured her a healthy dose of some liquor. “Drink.”

  Cassandra threw it back with little thinking, and he grinned. In his eyes, she saw recognition and some of the love he had for her mother. She understood why what he did would have scared Elena, but…

  “Why did my mom leave you?” Cassandra asked, biting her lip. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bring up bad memories. Especially after what you did for me. I owe you a lifetime of gratitude, but…”

  Vittorio waved her off. “No gratitude needed. I am more than happy to have been able to help you, Cassandra. As for why Elena left me…” He glanced out in the distance, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I was a headstrong fool who thought the only way to keep a woman was to boss her around. Your mother may have been scared at what I did for a living, but I am under no illusions. I did not make things easy for her, used as I was to have things my way.”

  “Damon does that all the time,” Cassandra grumbled. When Vittorio laughed, almost surprised, she added, “And I mind it, don’t get me wrong. But I love him in spite of it.”

  “Maybe that was the key, then,” Vittorie smiled sadly, “perhaps her love was not enough. But I do not blame Elena, never did. Once I got my head out of my ass, as you Americans say, I only wanted her happiness. It was why I helped her back then, in Paris.”

  Cassandra nodded, understanding this loyalty. “I am sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “For causing you trouble. The bodies, the…”

  Vittorio’s expression hardened and he leaned forward. “Make no mistake, Cassandra. Those men deserved what happened, and more. This was an easy death compared to what I wish would have befallen them. I may dabble in the occasional gun smuggling and illicit gambling, but these men were perverse to their core. Their deaths do not atone for the evil they perpetrated, but they at least
will offer their victims some freedom.”

  He touched her hand lightly, a brief reassurance. “Do not lose sleep over this. Over them. They do not deserve it.”

  Cassandra searched his gaze, wanting the absolution he offered. Vittorio was a man used to such things, as was Damon, to some extent. But the bodies she’d seen… She looked away, wondering if she’d ever be able to get their images out of their minds, considering she’d had a hand in their deaths.

  Vittorio’s hand on hers squeezed, demanding her attention. “You still feel guilty, because you are a decent human being. They were not. Half of those men ran prostitution houses across Europe, forcing women to serve under them. Some of those victims were as young as fourteen.” Cassandra’s eyes widened, and he inclined his head. “Yes, cara. Hear me when I say, they are undeserving of your guilt.”

  Under his powerful gaze, Cassandra could only nod. What he revealed didn’t excuse the carnage, but it did make her feel better knowing the men had been as bad as Viktor.

  The car pulled to a stop then, and she glanced outside. They were parked in front of a stark white building, which she assumed to be the hospital. The chauffeur came around to open her door, and Cassandra started to step out.

  “Ragazza…”

  Vittorio’s soft-spoken word stopped her, and Cassandra glanced back at him. He smiled then, a genuine grin that told her this wouldn’t be the last time they would speak. “This may not make much sense, but someone very dear to me once gave me the same advice. Do not let this experience jade you, nor change you. Family may have gotten you into this trouble, but do not forget the healing power of love. Il sangue lega, ma l’amore lega meglio.”

  Cassandra frowned at the words. Her poor understanding of Italian didn’t help, and she only understood the word blood. Yet something about the way Vittorio said the words calmed the skittishness inside her.

  Impulsively, she threw herself in Vittorio’s arms and hugged him. “Grazie,” she whispered in his ear, thanking him once more.