Blood Ties, Love Binds

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Blood Ties, Love Binds Page 17

by Alexa Whitewolf


  Cassandra nodded, squeezing back. “He did, and he also collected enough information to put Alain behind bars.”

  Fabrizio’s gaze shifted to Renzo, then back to Cassandra. “Let me offer you protection. A man like this Wraith, as the coppers call him, he’s not to be trusted to remain behind bars.”

  Cassandra shook her head and removed her hand. “Thanks, Uncle Fabio, but I’ll be fine, honestly.”

  The former Mafia enforcer sighed, then leaned back against the seat. “Suit yourself.”

  Renzo spoke in the silence that followed, his voice tense with anger. “Dad, why didn’t you mention any of this before? We could have both been seriously hurt.”

  Fabrizio exhaled a heavy breath. “Because I didn’t realize what the fool did until I saw Cassandra the other night with that man. I’m terribly sorry, Cassandra.”

  In a surge of sympathy, she leaned over and hugged him. “This is by no way your fault, Uncle Fabio. But there is something you can do to make it up to me.”

  As he listened to her plan, he let go of his drink, and the glint of danger washed out the glaze of alcohol in his eyes. “Consider Viktor handled.”

  ♥∞♥

  “You have nothing on me.”

  It was the fifth – or tenth – time Damon made the same statement, to no avail. Sean meant to destroy him, and he’d been circling the interrogation room, playing games he wasn’t fit to.

  A square four by four, the room barely held a table and two chairs. Damon was cuffed to the table, and while he could have broken free, he preferred not be in a high speed chase with the police.

  Not when there are better uses for my time. His thoughts went to Cassandra, and what had been interrupted in the hotel room.

  “We have witness accounts,” Sean said, “and your prints at the scene.”

  Damon leaned back in the chair as far as he could, and shrugged. “All circumstantial, which is why I refused a lawyer, dumbass.”

  Sean ignored that last part. “So how do you explain what happened? A mysterious other man, that’s your story?”

  Damon stared at him point blank and nodded. “Exactly.”

  Something about his countenance must have annoyed Sean, as he got all red in the face. “You think you’re God’s gift to women, don’t you?”

  Damon refrained from rolling his eyes. The guy had serious issues and the time was not right to address them. No matter how appealing the idea was, assaulting a cop for stupidity would only result in further questioning.

  “You have nothing to hold me,” he repeated.

  “I’ll find something.” Sean leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms and shooting a smug grin.

  Damon kept his gaze levelled on him, but the door to the interrogation room opened and in walked another man, dressed in a suit. “This interview is finished, officer.”

  “Detective–”

  “I said it’s over. You have no cause to hold this man.” The newcomer turned to Damon, palms open in silent apology. “You are free to go, Mr. Voight.”

  Once he’d un-cuffed him, Damon rose from the table. He rubbed his wrists and took his time walking to the door. He stopped right in front of Sean, towering over him. For long moments, he stared at the cop, his fist itching to be put to use.

  Rather than give in, Damon smirked and saluted him. “Told you. Next time, learn to listen, boy.”

  Leaving a red-faced cop behind, Damon walked out and signed for his things. He’d have to call Derek and thank him for putting in a good word – they must have been monitoring the local police stations.

  Seeing Cassandra waiting for him in the waiting area derailed his thoughts. She was sitting on an uncomfortable-looking bench, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. As if sensing him, she looked up – then she was in his arms.

  Damon held her tightly, never wanting to let go. He inhaled the scent of her hair, then allowed some space between them.

  “How did you get out?”

  Damon glanced back, noticing the detective in a corner. He saluted him, then disappeared back to where he presumably worked. He glanced back at the beauty in arms, and grinned. “Sheer good luck, I suppose?”

  Cassandra punched his arms lightly. “I’m serious!”

  Damon wrapped an arm around her shoulder and turned her towards the exit. As they walked out, he whispered, “I’ve got my former boss to thank, no doubt. He tends to come in handy in tight situations.”

  “I’d say…” Cassandra trailed off, and he sensed she was holding back something.

  Once they were outside the police station, Damon turned down the street and stopped. “What is it?”

  She bit her lip, then said, “Uncle Fabio says Viktor went to him first to kidnap me. When that didn’t work, he got Anton.”

  Damon’s eyes narrowed at the revelation. Exactly how many people did the contract get to, in Viktor’s desperation?

  If there’s more than one assassin out for her… It would explain the attack at the club. After all, the two goons they’d fought had none of the finesse Wraith did. Damon felt an ice grip get hold of his heart, and he pulled Cassandra tighter against his side. He needed to take her away – far away – to a place he could arrange twenty-four-hour protection.

  He cupped her cheek with his free hand and searched her eyes. “Come away with me.”

  Cassandra’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “Let’s get out of Canada for a bit. Go to Europe… Maybe even see your parents’ estate.”

  “Why the sudden urge to do that?”

  Damon kissed her softly, then said, “Because, Wraith will be in jail soon. And while that takes care of him, and the information I have on Viktor ensures he’ll be put away for good too, I don’t want to take any chances. If Moretti’s telling the truth, then Viktor might have gone to even more people. And if that’s the case…. Isn’t it better to get away for a bit, avoid the storm?”

  Cassandra looked at him for a long time, then smile. “Okay. Let’s.”

  ♥∞♥

  As Damon pulled into her parking spot, Cassandra noticed Renzo leaning against his own car. She jumped out of the passenger seat before Damon had fully parked and ran to hug her friend.

  Renzo returned the embrace, tightening his grip before releasing her. “All good?”

  “Yep. They let Damon go.”

  The smirk on Renzo’s face tipped Cassandra off, even before Damon asked, “It was you?”

  “Not me. My dad.” He shrugged at their confused glances. “What can I say? Turns out Fabrizio Moretti still has connections in the local police force.”

  Cassandra turned to Damon to see how he was taking the news, but he seemed to be over his shock. He took a step closer to Renzo and held his hand out for the younger man to shake. “Tell him thank you.”

  “Will do.” Renzo’s gaze shifted between them. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “We’re leaving for a while,” Damon said. “I don’t know how many people Viktor contacted in his stupidity, and it’s best Cass is away from this while it all blows over.”

  “Blows over?” Renzo frowned, missing the link.

  “My team pulled enough footprints Viktor left behind in his illicit affairs. They’ve already contacted the police, and the proof will get him behind bars – for good. Zak and Paco will stick behind to make sure the cops have anything they need, and once he’s officially arrested and put in jail, they’ll take off and return to the UK.”

  Cassandra was silent for a beat. Had she expected Viktor to get away with it? Did she even want him to? Not really. And yet, part of her felt guilty for causing harm to the man that had accepted her in his house as an orphaned child.

  “Cass.” Damon’s hand on her shoulder brought her out of her ruminations. “You don’t owe Viktor anything.”

  She gaped at him, surprised he’d read her thoughts with such accuracy. Damon kissed her forehead, then said, “And if you want to stay, we can. No pressure.”

  Cassandra shook
her head and pulled out of his arms. “Hell, no! Let me pack a quick bag and we can take off.”

  Damon nodded and stayed behind with Renzo, while she stepped inside the house. It was only once she closed the front door that she had the uncanny sensation she was not alone. Damon and Renzo hadn’t checked the house to make sure it was empty…and neither had she.

  “No hugs for your dad?”

  Cassandra let out the breath she’d be holding, almost in relief – but not quite. So daddy came to visit. She stepped into the kitchen, where Viktor loomed over the countertop. The lights were off, but the glint in his hand was hard to miss even in the darkness.

  Yelling for Damon and Renzo was no longer an option. I can’t afford either of them to get hurt, not this close to the end. Besides, I’ve handled daddy more than once before.

  Cassandra moved closer, lifting her palms up so he’d realize she was unarmed. The gun made Viktor dangerous, but no more than usual. She took in his dishevelled state, the bloodshot eyes and ripped suit, and the opened bottle of liquor sitting on the counter. By the looks of it, half of it was gone.

  Images of a drunken Viktor beating his wife, and attempting to hit her, ran through her mind. After her first cut lip from his fists, Cassandra had increased her martial arts training until she could hold her own. Viktor had never put his hands on her again – not for lack of trying, especially as she grew older.

  Eyes narrowed, she took in the monster of her childhood, the proverbial boogeyman. Other kids in school had been afraid of fictional creatures, but she’d had evil living in her own household.

  Cassandra cleared her dry throat. “What are you doing here?”

  “What, a father can’t come for a surprise visit to his daughter’s house?”

  “Not when he’s breaking in and pointing a gun at her,” she retorted.

  Her eyes were on the weapon in Viktor’s hand, even as she moved the last few steps. Only the granite island stood between them. Now that she was closer, Cassandra caught sight of the crystal glass and the stench of vodka pouring off it.

  “Some things never change, eh, daddy?” She sneered at him, her gaze locked on the alcohol. “What are you doing here, Viktor?”

  He stared at her for a beat as though not quite recognizing her. “You always had a mouth on you,” Viktor finally said, drinking some more.

  “Whatever you say. How about we do this without the alcohol?”

  Viktor glanced at the glass in his hand, then downed the whole thing. He set it back on the counter gently, at odds with his harsh words. “You ruined everything, you little bitch.”

  “No, I think you did when you decided to kidnap me, then sell me to highest bidder, dad.”

  Viktor’s eyes shot pure venom. “You don’t even need that money.”

  “Doesn’t mean it’s yours for the taking.” Cassandra leaned over the counter, staring him in the eyes despite the gun’s nozzle mere inches away. “What did I ever do for you to hate me this much? Why did you even want to adopt me?”

  Viktor laughed, cold and bitter. “Sophie always wanted a child, wouldn’t stop yapping about it. Then when they showed her the figure amount, how could she refuse? Didn’t know you'd be such a handful.”

  Cassandra gritted her teeth at his callous answer. “So it was all about the money?”

  “Poor little princess,” Viktor cackled. “Haven’t you learned yet? Money makes the world go round.”

  It happened so fast, Cassandra didn’t realize at first what happened. Viktor froze, his eyes opened wide. The gun dropped out of his hand, clattering to the ground. His massive body followed in the following second – and that’s when she saw it.

  Blood poured out of the back of his head, staining the floor with its ruby tinge. Cassandra was paralyzed at the sight, mouth opened in a silent scream of horror. Then her eyes fell on the reason for his untimely demise: the knife protruding from his skull.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Cassandra saw a shadow move. She whirled around towards the living room, in time to catch Alain – Wraith – walk in.

  Gone was the softness he’d exuded as Alain, replaced by a blank expression. His eyes were cold, filled with hatred and a feral rage she could almost feel across the distance. And in his hand was a gun with a silencer, pointed straight at her.

  “Don’t appear so surprised, chérie. I thought you were done with your questions and brought the interrogation to its inevitable conclusion.”

  Cassandra gulped, ready to scream for help. Damon’s warning was clear in her head, and she wasn’t about to take any chances with the psychopath. Before she could, Alain lifted his free hand, which held a rectangular object with wires. Atop it was a blinking red light.

  “Make one sound, and I’ll explode your car. It’s rigged with enough C4 to bring this entire neighbourhood down – and your two bodyguards with it.”

  Cassandra dropped her hands to her side, knowing a lost cause when she saw one. “What do you want?”

  “Right now, for you to turn that pretty ass around and walk out your backdoor without a noise. After… Well, I’m sure we can come up with something fun for the both of us.”

  His sinister laugh gave her goosebumps. Possibilities ran through her mind at warp speed, but one certainty overpowered her desire to fight. Alain was a trained assassin, and not her usual partner for sparring. And considering how their last fight had gone, the chances of triggering the explosives were too high.

  Shoulders slumped, Cassandra nodded. “I’ll do what you want, just let them go.” Fighting tears back, she walked out, feeling his presence at her back.

  They exited through her yard into a back alleyway. Parked in a corner was a car, engine still running. Alain opened the passenger seat, and waited until Cassandra got in.

  Once she was seated, he lifted a wet towel from the dashboard. She smelled something sweet, but before she could identify it, Alain shoved it in her hand.

  “Time to say night night,” he grinned.

  Cassandra stared up at the man she had once thought handsome. There was nothing in his expression, only an eagerness that was bordering on maniacal. For a second, she wondered why he hadn’t just shoved the cloth in her face and forced her to pass out.

  Then the glint in his eyes clued her in: Alain wanted her to do it. By obeying his command, she was surrendering. And for a psychopath bent on playing games, there was no better aphrodisiac.

  He wants revenge, and he’s going to take his sweet time breaking me. I’ve got to be strong, because there’s no way in hell this demon’s going to have my soul.

  Gritting her teeth, Cassandra put the cloth to her mouth, and inhaled. The hum of the engine roaring to life was the last thing she heard before falling into a blackout.

  ♥ Chapter 20 ♥

  Something’s wrong.

  The thought was sudden, but unyielding, and Damon had learned not to ignore such instincts.

  As he raised his gaze to Cassandra’s upstairs window, Renzo said, “She’s taking too long.”

  The younger man’s words oddly echoed his own unease. “What makes you say that?”

  “Cass is not your girlie girl. If she said it’s a quick pack that means less than five minutes. We’re going on ten, now.”

  That was all the incentive Damon needed to storm into the house. Even before he’d inspected the entire area, the eerie silence was enough to convince him – Cassandra was gone.

  “Cass!” Undaunted, he ran upstairs, checking every room only to find them all equally empty.

  Her bedroom was more telling than everything else. No suitcase on the bed, not even a rumpled bed sheet. She didn’t even make it upstairs!

  Damon rushed back down and headed to the kitchen. He found Renzo crouched by Viktor’s body. The knife handle jutting out from the back of his head was enough to tell him whose handiwork it was.

  “Wraith.”

  Renzo stood, swallowing hard. “He took Cass. So how do we get her back?”

  Damon pulled ou
t his cellphone and dialled his team, putting them on speaker. Zak answered and he gave him a rundown of the situation. In the background, he heard keyboard typing and assumed Paco was already trying to pull a digital footprint.

  “I’ll send someone to clean up,” Zak said, “and we’ll arrange everything into a plausible story for the cops. What do you need from us besides that?”

  “Two plane tickets to London, first class for the earliest morning flight you can find.”

  “London, as in UK London?” Renzo frowned. “You think you’ll find Cass that quick?”

  At Damon’s dark expression, Renzo ducked his head and muttered an apology. He set about wiping his prints from the counter.

  “I also need you to run a search for all aliases of Wraith,” Damon said. “It’s a long shot, but something may pop up.”

  Zak barked something in the background, then returned on the line. “You got it. Where are you going?”

  “Désirs Noirs.” Damon walked to the couch, where he still had a gym bag stashed. He rummaged through it and pulled out a gun, then slid it in the waistband of his jeans.

  “The club your first dead shooter used to work at?” Zak sounded confused.

  “Yeah. If Viktor picked up the Albanian from there, there’s bound to be a trace of Wraith somewhere. Could very well be someone in there connected the two.”

  “Okay, boss. We’ll work on it on our end.”

  Damon hung up, then headed to the door. “My guys will send someone, but you may want to get out of here. Cops will come at some point or another.”

  “Hell, no.” Renzo followed him outside, and to the car. “I’m coming with you.”

  “This could be dangerous, kid.”

  Renzo’s jaw clenched and he jerked his chin. “I'm well aware.”

  Pressed for time, Damon didn’t bother arguing. Each second spent on logistics was another moment Cassandra was with Wraith.

  “All right, let’s go.” He gestured for Renzo to get in the car, then started the engine.

  The drive to the club took less than ten minutes, and he was thankful traffic was light this time of day. Since it was still early morning, the business was closed to the public, but staff was working inside.

 

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