Cassandra frowned, unsure whether to believe him or not. Could her mother have hidden that much? Then images of a dark-haired man showing up at their estate floated through her mind, fleeting and unfocused. She tried to keep her attention on Lucien. “Was she hiding from him, here?”
“Yes. But beautiful as your mother was, she did not pass long unnoticed. Anton’s father was one of her many admirers, as was Jean-François, your father. It turned… ugly, for lack of a better word.” Another pause. “Anton’s father would not let go, even after Elena made her choice. Your father begged her to arrange protection, but my hands were tied by bureaucracy. So Elena called the one person she did not want to.”
“Vittorio.”
“Yes. It seemed fitting. And he handled the issue the way men of his station do. I didn’t ask what happened, but I did make sure my regiment’s attention was turned elsewhere. Afterwards, your parents moved to Italy and established their business. Vittorio left them alone, and Elena was safe… Though I missed her terribly in the years that passed.”
Cassandra let the tale sink in, then voiced what was on her mind. “Thank you, for sharing. I… I didn’t spend much time with my parents, as they died when I was young.”
“Terrible accident…”
There was something in his eyes that warned Cassandra there was more to come. “Anton had a hand in it. As he did with what happened in Montréal, yes.”
Lucien nodded, as though having expected such a revelation. “There is something else you need to know of. The car that struck your companion yesterday, it is registered to the Albanian mob. I am afraid they were the ones that put your step father in touch with Anton. With both gone, they expect payment.”
The news did not come as a surprise, and it confirmed Damon’s theory. But Lucien’s carefully chosen words implied something else. The last piece dawned on Cassandra, and she glanced at his badge. “And you cannot arrange protection.”
Lucien’s eyes were sad as he answered. “There is nothing I wish for more, but I am no longer a policier as the rest, a field agent. I am close to retirement, and Interpol’s upper management does not listen to an old man’s tales. My administrative access enabled me to use Interpol’s resources to follow the trail and find out what I could from recent events, but if I put this information to my supervisors, they will call Damon in for questioning.”
“What? Why?”
“There is a warrant out for his arrest from Canada.”
Cassandra swore under her breath, cursing Sean. “I thought that was handled.”
“I am sure it is something he can easily get out of, but with Damon in custody, it would leave you unprotected.”
Cassandra tilted her head to the side, feeling like she was missing something. “So how do you suggest I handle the mobsters?”
“The way your mother did. Go to Italy.”
“And ask Vittorio for help? He doesn’t even know me!”
Lucien laughed at that. “Ma chère, you are a copy of your mother. He cannot deny you, no matter what."
Cassandra glanced back towards the hotel, but Lucien seemed to read her mind. “It is best to leave Damon if you want to get into Italy without issues. The warrant is international, and he might get nabbed at the border. I know you do not want to, but he will be safe here. The mob will follow you.”
Cassandra nodded, knowing in her heart he was right. Much as she disliked leaving her boyfriend behind, especially considering what they had survived, his safety would be assured. And at the end of the day, I don’t want him to pay for something that’s meant for me.
They walked back to the hotel in silence. Cassandra stopped for a brief moment at a store and picked up some croissants, then followed Lucien back to the front entrance.
When he dropped her off, she hugged him. “Thank you for the advice, Lucien.”
He smiled when she pulled back, and grabbed her free hand in his. Cassandra started when she felt him slip something into her palm.
“Do not look at it until you get in, away from cameras,” Lucien said. Nothing about his expression changed, but his eyes spoke volumes. “Interpol has eyes everywhere. But that is the contact you will need for Vittorio.”
Cassandra kissed his cheeks and headed into the hotel, feeling like her entire world had come crashing down in a few moments. A few hours earlier, she’d been enjoying a romantic dinner with Damon. Then he’d been run over, their lives had been threatened, and she’d found out her mother had a different life before marrying her father.
She stopped in front of her hotel room, pausing. Can I really do this? Leave Damon? And more importantly, is there another option?
Before she could decide, the door opened and Damon rushed out, nearly colliding with her. His hands reached out to steady her, and he ran his eyes up and down her frame, checking for injuries. “Dammit, Cassandra! Why didn’t you wait for me?”
Rather than answer, she buried her head in his chest, hugging him tightly. After a moment of surprise, Damon’s entire being relaxed and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her in silence for a few moments.
When Cassandra drew back, the words were on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell him everything Lucien had, and decide together. But then Damon’s expression softened, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was worried, love.”
There was so much unsaid in those words, Cassandra’s throat tightened and the truth wouldn’t come out. If she told Damon, he’d come with her and would be focused on keeping her safe, rather than himself. He’d treat the entire thing like one of his missions, and she’d seen how much he was willing to risk.
He barely survived fighting Wraith. There is no way in hell I’m risking his life for a bunch of mobsters, not when I just got him back.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Damon’s index finger under her chin reminded Cassandra that she’d been silent for too long. She nodded, pasting on a smile. “Yeah, I just needed air. Plus, I was hungry for something besides room service.”
She held up the paper bag with fresh croissants, their enticing smell wafting around them. Damon grinned and pulled her inside the room, then took the goodies away from her hands. “I’ve got a better idea.”
His mouth was on hers in the following breath, and Cassandra kissed him back. His every touch, every kiss, could be their last, and she wasn’t about to waste a single moment of it. She allowed his love to wash over her, healing her pained heart.
And when they tumbled into bed, she made love to him like it was the last time. Their joining was fierce, almost raw in its passion. Damon tried to slow it down, to be gentle with her, but Cassandra was having none of it.
For each slow pace he attempted to set, she demanded more. When Damon seemed unwilling to give her the intensity she craved, Cassandra took matters in her own hands.
She rolled them over and straddled him, kissing him to stop any questions from rising. His hands moved to her hips, groaning as he pulled her down on him. Cassandra enjoyed feeling his hard-on through their clothes, but she needed more.
Muttering in frustration, she pulled down his boxers, then discarded her own underwear. Damon watched her too closely, almost as if trying to read beneath the surface.
Can’t have that.
Cassandra crawled over Damon, positioning herself above him. In one swift move, she took him inside. She threw her head back, exposing the long expanse of her neck as she rode his length. Damon trailed his hands from her collarbone to her breasts, then started toying with her until she was pleading for more.
“How much more?” he asked, his eyes dark with desire.
“I want everything.”
Damon rolled them over, then lifted one of her legs, creating a deeper angle. Cassandra moaned at the new sensations, and tried to close her eyes.
“Look at me, love. I want to see it when you shatter.”
Dazed and close to the brink, Cassandra found his gaze – then gave in to the ecstasy. Damon was quick to follow, d
ropping his head to her chest.
Once Damon was exhausted and asleep, Cassandra slid out of bed and showered quickly. She got dressed in the dark, then wrote him a note explaining everything. She kissed his cheek one last time, holding back her tears and praying she’d see him again.
Then she snuck out like a thief in the night, heading for the airport.
♥ Chapter 22 ♥
Present time
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Damon’s voice growled in Cassandra’s ear, and she had to move the phone away while he let out some very obnoxious curse words.
When only silence remained, she placed it back near her ear. “Are you done now?”
“Cass…” His voice softened, but there was still a hard edge to it. “Where are you? Why did you leave?”
Me. The word was implied, but Damon kept it to himself.
“Damon, I didn’t leave you. I, um…” How do I even go about explaining this? With a sigh, Cassandra settled on the truth. “When you were showering the other day, I had a visit from a Lucien Montagnard. He’s from –”
“Interpol.” Damon spit the word like it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Cassandra frowned. “Yeah, how did you know?”
“We’ve crossed paths. What did he want?”
“Well, he knew my mom and the story of her and my dad and Anton. He also figured out why the Albanian mob is still after me – because they want their money. You were right, after all.” She paused, then said, “So I arranged a meet with some lawyers and set up a trap at my family’s estate. There’s a contact here in Italy that can help me deal with it.”
His silence gave her hope that Damon agreed with her course of action. That hope was shattered the moment he exploded. “So you’re in Italy?”
Cassandra cringed, pulling the phone away from her while he cursed some more. This is so not going like I’d planned. She glanced again outside, noticing the men were still not moving.
What the hell are they waiting for?
“Yeah, I’m in Italy at the DiCavalier estate.”
There was some shuffling in the background, and the sound of a zipper. Then Damon came back on the line. “And did they follow you?”
Cassandra hesitated again, but his impatient sigh wrenched the honest answer out of her. “Yes.”
“Cassandra.”
The sudden serious tone of Damon’s voice had her focus. “What’s going on? You seem out of it.”
“Who, me? Nah, no way.” She attempted to direct the conversation otherwise, but Damon wasn’t fooled.
“What’s going on?”
Cassandra blew out a breath, risking another peek outside. She thought about faking bad service and hanging up on him, at least while she sorted the mess out. How could she explain to him that not only was she in danger, but she hadn’t even had time to meet with the lawyers nor call Vittorio for help?
At the exact moment Damon repeated his question, two of the men moved forward. They had their bodies angled weirdly, and Cassandra inched closer to the window, trying to figure out what they were doing.
By the time they straightened out, it was too late to do anything. Each man had hold of a machine gun, and they aimed them towards her floor. Without hesitation, they started shooting and spray of bullets shattered the windows.
“Those sons of bitches!”
Cassandra ducked to the ground, swearing as she tried to get out of the line of fire. They must be doing this to force me outside. Damon’s worried flow of questions echoed through the phone, but she couldn’t focus on that. Not when she was about to be turned into Swiss cheese by the same men destroying her parents’ house.
“Cassandra, answer me!”
She’d managed to get into a corner away from the windows, and she lifted the phone to her ear again. “I’m fine.”
“Fine? That sounded like you’re in the middle of a shootout! What the hell’s going on, Cass?”
“I swear it’s nothing big, Da—”
Damon interrupted before she could finish, rough with emotion. “Stop lying to me.” Softer, he continued, “I can help, you know I can.”
“Not with this, I won’t let you. I love you, but it’s for the best.” She hung up on him, then crawled in the area least littered by shards of glass, until she was under a window again.
Cassandra reached for the gun tucked in the waistband of her jeans, and took the safety off. She’d had shooting lessons a few years back, and only hoped her aim was like riding a bicycle.
The volley of bullets had stopped, presumably while they recharged or waited to see if the attack would flush her out. Cassandra poked her head to identify some targets. She knew shooting the attackers directly was her best option, but they were small targets. So she aimed for the cluster of them near cars, and pulled the trigger.
Her arm vibrated with each shot, and shouts echoed from below as the men took cover. Cassandra shot until an empty click resounded, then pulled her hand back. She risked a glance to see she’d caught two of them – fatally or not, she couldn’t tell from so far away.
Either way, it was enough to get their attention elsewhere. Crawling away from the window, she pulled her cell back out.
♥∞♥
Damon was shaking with anger, and panic for Cassandra’s safety. He knew the sound of bullets as well as he knew the sound of his own breathing, and there was no way his girl was safe.
Damn her, but doesn’t she realize how much danger she put herself in? And she expects Vittorio to pull her out of it?
When Cassandra has said Italy, he’d known what had drawn her there. He knew about the mobster, and Paco had filled him in on the connection with Wraith on the plane from Canada, while Cassandra had been asleep. But there was no way he was letting Cassandra suffer for her parents’ mistakes.
The tightening in his chest almost suffocated him, and he hit the wall in rage. A deep breath later, he was dialling a number.
A French-accented voice answered in English. “Yes?”
“Lucien, what the fuck did you tell my girl?”
There was a pause, then the Interpol consultant sighed. “Only what she needed to know.” After summarizing their conversation, Lucien added, “There’s a warrant out there for your arrest, I did you a favour.”
“Last I recall, I didn’t ask you to. As a matter of fact, after your last favour, I’m pretty sure I told you to stay the hell out of my way next time I’m in your country!”
“Damon, I couldn’t have known Interpol would act on the information so quick and they’d ruin your operation. Those girls dying, it was collateral damage, yes. But we got the bad guy, in the end.”
Damon’s hand tightened around the cell with enough force to break it. “You’re full of shit. Is Cassandra collateral damage too, then?”
Lucien sighed. “No. I meant what I told her. Vittorio will help, and she can get the mob off her back once and for all.”
“Except she never got a chance to call him apparently, since she’s stuck in her parents’ estate and being shot at! And I’m not even in same country to save her!”
There was a stunned silence, then Lucien whispered, “What?”
“You heard me, you French bastard. And now you’re going to help me. I need a plane to get to Italy, and the clearance so I’m not asked any questions at take-off and landing.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I don’t care!” Damon’s hiss in the phone had nothing polite about it, and his tone took on a harsher edge. “Do this, and I won’t fuck you over when I return – if Cassandra’s unharmed. But if you don’t help me, I will personally hunt you down and kill you.”
There was a gulp on the line, then Lucien said, “I do not wish Cassandra to come to any harm, either. Give me an hour.”
“You have five minutes.”
Damon hung up and threw his remaining equipment in a gym bag, then zipped it closed. By the time five minutes had passed, he was already out of the hotel and in a taxi.<
br />
He dialled Lucien. “Well?”
“It’s done. Go to this address, the pilot’s name is Didier. He’ll get you where you need to go.”
Damon wrote down the coordinates and hung up. He handed the information to the taxi driver, then sat back and did something he hadn’t done in ages. He prayed – for Cassandra’s safety, and to get there on time.
♥∞♥
Commotion outside caught Cassandra’s attention once more. Three new cars joined the pile, and this time a well-dressed man hopped out of the back of one of them. Even from afar, Cassandra could tell the other men responded to his authority, and a shiver ran down her back.
He must be the boss.
She glanced at the paper she’d been holding crumpled and inhaled deeply. It’s time. She couldn’t delay it much longer. And if she was wrong, and Vittorio didn’t pick up… Cassandra tried to ignore the sinking in her stomach.
The line rang and rang, then someone answered in Italian. “Ciao.” The word was clipped, unwelcoming, and the words got stuck in her throat.
“Chi sei?” Cassandra knew enough of the language to translate. Who are you? When she didn’t answer, a string of Italian followed, none too amicable.
“I don’t speak Italian,” Cassandra finally said, and the rant stopped.
There was a heavy silence, and when the man spoke again, his voice was hoarser. “Elena? How… How can this be?”
Cassandra gulped, almost tempted to lie since her voice was so like her mother’s. But she pushed back the unwelcome idea. She couldn’t lie to Vittorio, not when the unspoken emotion in his tone told her everything she needed to know. Mobster or not, he’d loved her mother, and that love had never died.
“It’s not Elena,” Cassandra whispered, “but her daughter. My name is Cassandra, and I… I’m in trouble.”
She’d imagined a variety of ways the conversation could go, but nothing went as expected.
“Where are you?” was Vittorio’s immediate response, almost panicked.
“At my parents’ estate,” Cassandra said, realizing only after that he might not know where it is. And she hadn’t bothered to note the number of the place before getting there.
Blood Ties, Love Binds Page 20
