Blood Ties, Love Binds

by Alexa Whitewolf

  “Tell me anyway.”

  Cassandra fidgeted, uncomfortable under his too-intense gaze. “Viktor was a control-freak, enough so that he’s kept records of everything in his house. When I left, we had a big blowout over him finding me in his office. He raised his hand to me, and I took off, never returning.”

  The string of curses that left Damon’s mouth would have put a sailor to shame. After a few beats of watching him pace, he faced her once more. Something about his stance warned Cassandra that he was close to snapping.

  When he spoke, his tone was equally tense. “Where in the house?”

  “His office, there’s a hidden safe behind the library. I once saw him hide a burgundy notebook there, and I’m pretty sure it held his dealers’ contacts.”

  Damon blinked at her revelation. “You knew he was dealing drugs?”

  “Everyone at my school knew,” Cassandra snorted. “They used to come to me expecting me to hook them up.”

  Damon nodded, filing the information away for future use. “What else?”

  “Viktor’s business contacts. He met or defended a lot of his dealers, so you’ll probably find connections to a fair amount of money laundering in his financial records. With his gambling habit, I doubt he saved any of the money he got for raising me.”

  The only indication of Damon’s rising ire were his narrowed eyes, and the clenching of his jaw. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty sure he had something to do with his wife’s death. A year after you left, they separated and she threatened to take him to court for all he was worth.” Cassandra bit on her lip, recalling the fight that had kept her up all night. “Two days later, she was in an accident. Dead on impact.”

  “Fuck.” Damon turned away and pulled a cellphone from his back pocket. He dialled a number, then spoke briefly into it. It was too low for Cassandra to hear, but after a minute or so of silence Damon growled louder. “Just get it done. Tonight.”

  Then he hung up, and turned to face her. “Good, now that’s dealt with.”

  Cassandra narrowed her eyes as Damon took another step closer, forcing her to retreat. “What are you doing?”

  Her backing away was stopped short when she felt cold metal against her backside. She’d hit the refrigerator, and the predator glint in Damon’s eyes warned he realized as much.

  “I’m finishing what we started. You trusted me once, Cass,” Damon said, all the intensity having left his eyes. The vibrant green was a touch more dull, his expression sad and pained. “And I want to be the one you trust again.”

  “Good luck with that.” She raised her chin to glare at Damon, hoping it was convincing enough and wouldn’t betray the fast-beating of her heart. “Would you mind moving, now?”

  An amused gleam flickered in his gaze. The instinct to smile was strong, but she fought it. This was not the best of times to let herself be swept away by Damon’s dangerous charm.

  “Yes,” Damon’s voice was silky as he leaned his head lower towards hers. “I mind moving, very much.”

  Cassandra’s next breath hitched in her chest as Damon moved the last inch, and his body was pressed to hers – everywhere. One hand came up and lifted her chin, keeping Cassandra immobilized even as his lips got closer.

  She avoided his eyes, wanting nothing more than to fight him – or so she told herself. But underneath the fire fuelling her annoyance, underneath the fear of losing something she’d never truly regained, there was a chemistry that pulled her to Damon with all the force of a magnet.

  “Keep dreaming, golden boy.” Cassandra’s words sounded weak even to her ears. But it was when she made the mistake of looking up into his eyes, and her pulse fluttered, that she knew she was lost.

  Oh… shit.

  ♥ Chapter 13 ♥

  Damon’s lips were moving closer to Cassandra’s, and she could only stare wide-eyed. She managed to drag her eyes away from his and pushed against his chest.

  “Damon. Move!” Her voice rose slightly, but she didn’t care if he could read her emotions, as long as it would get him out of her way.

  With each smack against his chest, Damon only let out a chuckle, and refused to budge. “Why would I move, when I’m so comfortable at the moment?” His crooked smile earned a flutter in her stomach, and Cassandra bit on her lip.

  Damon’s gaze zeroed in on the movement, and something changed in his expression. His eyes darkened, nostrils flaring as if the last shred of control he had was slipping away.

  Cassandra refused to be impressed by the hardness of his body pressing against hers. She clenched her teeth, considering using self-defense to get Damon at a safe distance from her, when the phone rang.

  “Saved by the ring,” Damon’s eyes glittered as he eased himself off, allowing Cassandra to run into the hallway.

  As she answered the landline, Cassandra noticed Damon leaning against the door of the kitchen, close by, to hear her conversation. She was about to turn and ask for privacy, when the familiar voice on the line made her eyes widen in shock.

  “Cassandra?” The French accent was recognizable in the very pronunciation of her name.

  She leaned against the wall opposite Damon, smiling like the proverbial cat that ate the canary, and switched to French. “Oui, Alain. It’s me. How are you?”

  The answering flare of jealousy in Damon’s eyes was satisfaction enough. It was obvious he knew who the caller was, and was none too thrilled about it.

  “I’m well, thank you. And you?” Alain’s voice brought her back to the conversation.

  “Good. I’m sorry for yesterday. My friend has very bad manners.”

  Alain chuckled on the line. “So I gathered. Has he been…taken care of?”

  Cassandra thought back to what had almost happened in the kitchen and held back a grimace. “Not quite, but I want to make it up to you. Will you let me?”

  “Actually, that’s why I called.”

  “Oh?” Cassandra kept her voice casual, but her eyes darted to where she saw Damon’s fists clenching, as if he ached to grab the phone from her. “Interesting development."

  “Yes…” Alain was saying. “I was wondering if you are free tonight? For a dinner and dancing, if that’s all right with you.”

  The faint uncertainty in his voice had her smile. “I’d love to! Tonight, nine o’clock?”

  “Perfect, I will pick you up.” There was no more uncertainty there, only a deeply satisfied tone of voice.

  Still smiling, Cassandra gave Alain her address, then hung up the phone. Damon’s entire body was rigid with fury when she turned to face him again.

  Head held high, she took a few steps, wanting to get to the kitchen. After all, she was still hungry. But before she could cross him, Damon’s arm shot out, blocking her passage. His voice was tense when he spoke, as if he was making a huge effort to control his pitch.

  “Why did you agree to go out with him?” That was definitely anger vibrating with every word. “I don’t like him, Cass, and you shouldn’t be anywhere near him!”

  “Didn’t we have this conversation already?” Cassandra narrowed her eyes, hands on her hips. “You can hardly tell me what to do, Damon. I’m an adult now, not a little girl. I’ll go out with whomever I damn please, and I don’t need your approval. And if you must know why I agreed, it’s because he’s a charming, uncomplicated guy.”

  She ducked under his arm and walked to the kitchen, but couldn’t resist one last dig. “Plus, he and I don’t have any history. Yet.”

  Damon stood frozen for long moments as the meaning of her words sank in. Cassandra kept her eyes on his back as he took in a few breaths, then joined her at the table.

  His eyes were guarded again, but traces of frustration rolled off him in waves. “I was out of line, you’re right.” Damon’s sheepish smile made him look young, and something tugged at Cassandra’s heart.

  His silence as they continued eating peaked her curiosity, as did his intense expression. It was almost as if he’d come to
some type of conclusion, and Cassandra reasoned that her curiosity had more to do with how it would affect her, than anything else.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked, swallowing the last remnants of her wine, and filling another glass.

  Damon watched the amber liquid pour for a moment, then locked eyes with hers. “I was thinking about what you’d said. That when it comes to you, I should forget it. You’ve pretty much said the same thing to some extent or another since I returned. It all implies that I’ll never get another shot, correct?”

  Damon’s question took her by surprise, and Cassandra took a gulp of wine to buy some time before answering. The liquid trickled the wrong way down her throat and before she knew it, she was coughing. She walked by the sink and got a glass of water, gulping it down until the irritation in her throat calmed down.

  Aware of Damon’s keen sense of observation, she faced him and leaned against the counter. “Yes, I meant that.” She was proud of her steady voice, but the words themselves didn’t have the conviction Cassandra would have wanted.

  Damon nodded, as if having expected her answer, and also stood. She tensed, fearing he would corner her again, but he kept a distance between them. “What if I were to tell you the real reason I’m here is to get you back?”

  Cassandra gaped at him, her heart thundering with those few simple words. “You said you were here on business!” Her accusation didn’t shake him, and she gripped the counter for support, dizzy from a rush of emotions.

  If he’s here for me….

  But the hurt of the past….

  Still, what if….

  All possibilities ran through her mind, and she shook her head at the assault. When she next looked at Damon, his composed face was at odds with the whirlwind tornado he’d thrown her in.

  “You… That’s a lie.” Cassandra cleared her throat, straightening up. “You’re here for Viktor, and I’m just collateral damage. Whatever this is,” she gestured to space between them, “you’re using it to screw with me.”

  Emotions flashed on Damon’s face, too sudden to be interpreted properly. He took a small step closer, but stopped when Cassandra tensed. “Viktor is an excuse, but not the reason to my presence here.”

  “You’re here for business!” There was almost desperation in the way she said the word, and Damon picked it up.

  “Repeating it multiple times won’t change the facts, Cass. My business is you.” He paused a beat, then added, “But you didn’t answer my question.”

  Cassandra stopped avoiding his gaze and met it. “If that’s true, then I would offer to pay for your plane ticket back home, wherever that is for you.”

  She tried to move past him, but was not quick enough. Damon’s voice reached her, and the confidence in his words threw her for another loop.

  “Home was always where you are, Cass,” Damon said. “You should remember.”

  ♥∞♥

  Cassandra whirled around to face Damon, her eyes searching his for proof he meant the statement. He could read her like an open book, and it was so he noticed both the fear and hope in her expression at his words.

  Damon knew his departure had hurt her, and it was a subject he’d avoided long enough. If he told her the truth, then it should be enough to regain at least a semblance of trust from Cassandra. And if he had that…. The possibilities boggled his mind.

  It was imperative she know more, at least about that one thing. Before he could change his mind, Damon closed the remaining distance until they were once more chest to chest.

  “Cass, we need to talk about why I left. You need to know–”

  The ring of a doorbell had him growl. He gripped Cassandra’s wrist when it seemed like she would go answer it, rather than hear him out. “Let it ring.”

  She glanced between him and the door, torn. The following loud banging was the deciding factor – against him.

  “Cass, it’s me. I drove your car over.”

  Cassandra pulled her wrist out of Damon’s grasp gently, then said, “Later. Renzo brought me my car from the other night at the club.”

  She walked to the door, and Damon had no choice but to trail her. He didn’t trust the Mafia spawn, and there was no way he planned to leave Cassandra alone with him.

  When she opened the door, Lorenzo was leaning against the frame and smiling like a little boy. All Damon wanted to do was punch him, but he settled for clenching and unclenching his fists.

  Car keys dangled from the other man’s hands. At the look of utter delight on Cassandra’s face, Damon kicked himself for not picking it up himself. He did his best to push down his annoyance and instead moved into the light, noticing with some satisfaction that Lorenzo’s gaze narrowed on him. The laughter in his eyes died and their conversation stalled.

  “What are you doing here?” Lorenzo was scowling now, glancing between them as if trying to figure out the mystery of life.

  “Renzo…” Cassandra groaned, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but between the two of them.

  “I slept the night,” Damon said. Lorenzo’s eyes widened in response, this time focusing his attention on Cassandra.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t happy. But did he have feelings for Cassandra? That, not even Damon could tell. So he did the next best thing and turned the focus on the Mafia kid. “Your turn. What’s with the visit?”

  Cass made a noise of frustration, practically stomping her foot. “That’s it! If you two think I’m going to stand for this, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m going for a run, and you can have your pissing contest without me.”

  Before either of the men could move, Cassandra put on her sneakers, kissed Lorenzo’s cheek and took off on a sprint.

  His reaction time affected, Damon could only stare at her shape getting smaller in the distance until she turned a corner. I should go after her.

  Before he could, Renzo faced him, levelling his gaze onto Damon’s. They assessed each other for a beat, mirror images of arms crossed over their chest and feet spread width apart.

  Either this’ll end in a fight, or bonding. There’s no other feasible option.

  Damon was about to voice his thoughts aloud, but Renzo exhaled steadily and stepped inside, beating him to it. “Listen, we started off on the wrong foot. The only thing I have against you is the fact you broke Cassandra’s heart once upon a time. Aside from that, you seem like an ok enough guy.”

  Damon couldn’t help his snort. “High praise coming from a mafioso’s son.”

  Lorenzo grinned at that. “Friends call me Renzo.”

  “And you count me one?”

  “No…” Renzo’s gaze was speculative. “But I will if you cut the bullshit and tell me what’s brought you back into her life.”

  Damon weighed his options, not really keen on trusting the kid. Then he remembered how his dad had watched out for Cassandra earlier that day. Information from Cassandra’s file trickled in his mind on the newly reformed Fabrizio Moretti, and he decided against his original impulse.

  “Alright, but you’re in for a long–”

  Damon trailed off, noticing the car across the street. They hadn’t yet closed the door and were both standing in the entrance. Back into a corner across the street was a black vehicle with heavily tinted windows. At first glance a few minutes earlier, he’d thought it empty. But now the front window was rolled down, and a shadow moved within.

  A flash of a reflective surface within caught Damon’s attention. He turned to Renzo to ask him the same, and noticed the red dot on the side of his head.

  “Get down!” Damon tackled him to the ground, then dragged him by the arm into a corner of the living room.

  Renzo edged away, eyes wide as they listened to the rapid fire of a sniper’s rifle hitting a wall.

  “What the hell!?”

  Damon threw him a look to keep immobile, then crouched to the couch where his bag was lying. He pulled out a handgun and added a silencer. If someone was willing to take a sh
ot in the middle of the evening, and in a residential neighbourhood, they’d need to be as sly as he was.

  To Damon’s surprise, when he turned Renzo was next to him, seemingly over his initial panic. “What do you need from me?"

  Damon glanced around, hesitant to put him in danger, but knowing he’d need a diversion if he wanted to take out the threat before Cassandra returned.

  An idea formed in his head, and he said, “I need to you take a punch. Can you do that?”

  Renzo nodded, and before Damon could give him further instructions, he stepped backwards and stood up again. He was back in the line of fire of the assassin, and Damon knew it only gave him a few moments to act. “Watch yourself, kid.”

  He took off to the back, exiting through the yard and the side of the house. After hopping a few fences, he ended up on the street behind the car. Damon took a deep breath, recalling his special ops training and keeping each step as light as a feather as he approached the car.

  The sniper was too busy firing on his moving target – Renzo was doing a good job playing the rabbit to his hunter. By the time Damon opened the door and shot him in the back of the skull, it was too late.

  Blood spattered over the windows and car seats, but it didn’t faze Damon. He pocketed his silencer and moved his hands over the body, patting him down and trying to figure out who had sent him. The answer came from the cell call log: Cassandra’s dad.

  “Shit!”

  Damon turned behind at the curse, noticing Renzo’s widened gaze. “There were no more bullets, so I figured you got him.” He gulped, eyes on the body. “You killed him? How are you going to explain this to the cops?”

  “I won’t,” Damon said and pocketed the car keys. “I’ll take care of cleaning this. Can you keep an eye on Cassandra until I come back?”

  Renzo met his gaze, concern for the girl they both cared for etched on his face. “You got it. Should I call my dad for reinforcements?”

  Much as the offer was appealing, Damon shook his head. “No, and don’t tell him about this yet. I’ll fill you in when I get back.”