CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DAMIEN
I had a plan.
A plan that led to no casualties on my end.
I’m not stupid. After all my investigations it quickly became clear that Miguel and Santori have been working together, for years it would seem.
I don’t know where they met and I don’t give a fuck about that.
But Santori’s been doing his dirty work while Miguel has made sure to reimburse him when necessary, making them partner in crimes.
Their crimes ranging from blackmail to murder. I was in no way surprised when I realized that Miguel had hired Santori to kill Gabriel. It’s why Santori’s been laying low, poking me from the shadows. He was trying to ensure he didn’t get caught.
But nothing ever remains hidden for long. Moretti was able to provide me with all the information I needed, including their next plan of action which was to lure Cassie away from me so they could abduct her and use her to take me down.
I had everything in place. I made my way to the location of the meeting before Cassie because I wanted to take them down before she got there. But imagine my surprise when I arrived to find the place empty. They got wind of the fact that I was on to them and they changed their plans.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt blind panic like that before. Thankfully, Dante’s a skilled hacker. He was able to track their location but by the time I got everything under control, they had her and they had killed my men.
Rafael was one of my trusted, most loyal capos. He didn’t deserve to go out that way. None of this was meant to happen this way.
The light burns my eyes as we step out of the shadows. Cassie’s in my arms, head tucked beneath my chin, her body trembling with the weight of what she’s endured. It’s only been a few hours since she was taken, but it feels like I’ve lived a hundred years between then and now.
I hold her tighter, shielding her from the sun, from the guards, from the bodies on the ground, from everything.
Luca’s ahead of us, dragging Miguel by the collar towards one of the cars for transport. Cassie suddenly shifts in my arms.
“Damien,” she whispers.
I stop, heart catching at the sound of my name in her voice.
“What is it? Are you in pain?”
Her hand presses lightly against my chest, “Put me down.”
I hesitate.
“Please.”
There’s something in her eyes. Some expression I haven’t seen before.
Anger mixed with resolve. I set her down slowly, hands lingering on her waist as if she might fall.
She doesn’t. She straightens, steady now despite the red rim around her eyes and the tremble in her fingers. Her gaze slides past me. To Miguel.
I see it too late. She reaches and my holster is light before my brain catches up.
She has my gun in a flash, moving fast towards Miguel.
My guars falter, confused. Luca straightens, eyes narrowing as Cassie stalks towards him and Miguel, who’s slumped against the side of the car.
Bleeding, cuffed, but still breathing. Too much so.
She raises the gun, aims it at him.
“Cassie,” I move to intercept, calm but alert. “Don’t.”
“He killed my father,” she says, voice sharp, ragged. “He killed Rafael. He kidnapped me. You should have heard him confessing to it all. He looked me in the eye and God, Damien, he smiled when he told me!”
“I know,” I say gently. “And he’ll pay for it. I swear it.”
Her hand doesn’t waver, “Then let me do it.”
“No,” I say sharply.
That gets her attention. Her head whips to me, eyes wild.
“Why not?”
“Because this,” I gesture to the gun, to her clenched hands. “This isn’t yours to carry, sweetheart. It’s mine.”
“No, I can’t. I have to do this!”
“You don’t,” I counter, standing in front of her and cutting off her line of sight. “You don’t need to cross this line, Cassie. This is my line. You get a glimpse into my darkness but I refuse to allow you to be a part of it.”
Her hands tremble. Her lips press together, a war waging in her chest I can feel even from where I stand. She’s not a killer. But I am. And I love her too much to let her become something she’ll never come back from.
Slowly, her arm lowers. The gun tips down, her breath coming fast.
“Then do it for me. Kill him,” she says to me.
“Mi vida….”
She looks up at me, the fire in her eyes dimmed, but not gone, “Please, Damien. I need to see this. I need to know he’s gone.”
I take the gun from her gingers, steadying her hand as it falls to the side. She leans against me and I wrap my free arm around her. Miguel lifts his head, meeting my eyes. there’s no begging. He knows better.
I look down at the gun. Then back at Cassie.
“This had better bring you peace, mi vida,” I tell her.
It only takes one shot. Clean, efficient. A single shot to his chest and his body slumps. Luca doesn’t even flinch. He steps back, wiping blood from his knuckles with a handkerchief like it’s another Tuesday.
Cassie sags into me, watching the life drain from a man she once loved. There’s no satisfaction in her expression, just relief. Closure. Meanwhile, my lips press into a thin line.
Miguel’s one lucky son of a bitch. I planned to make him suffer, to torture him and draw out his punishment. But she needed to watch him die, and I would never let her watch him be tortured. Which is why I ended his life so fast.
No matter though. there’s someone else that can be the object of my rage and frustrations. Santori will be the perfect output. And it won’t be clean, not in the slightest.
I press a kiss to Cassie’s hair before leading her to the car, helping her in. She doesn’t say a word the entire ride home, simply holding to me tight. I wonder what’s going through her head. I wish she’d talk to me. The silence has me feeling anxious, worried.
Once we arrive home, I carry her up the stairs in silene, every step heavier than the last, not from her weight, but from the rage coiling inside of me.
I push the bedroom door open with my foot and lay her down gently on the bed. The moment I straighten, her fingers curl into the front of my shirt. Then she lets out a sound, soft at first, like a breath caught in her throat.
It starts to build though. A sob, shaky, gutting.
“Cassie…” I kneel down beside her. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
She shudders and then she breaks. It’s like a damn bursting open.
Her sobs are violent, heart-wrenching. She clutches at me, her hands desperate like I’m the only solid thing left in her world.
I sit down beside her and pull her onto my lap.
She cries into my chest, soaking through my shirt, her entire body wrecked with grief.
And I take it all, I absorb every shaking breath, every broken sound, because this is what she needs.
To finally cry. To grieve. She was barely able to grieve her father that. That coupled with all the things she’s experienced in the past couple of months and it’s no wonder this outpouring didn’t come sooner.
I don’t rush her. I don’t speak. My hands move in slow strokes over her back, her spine, her hair. I press kisses to her head, murmuring nothing but warmth and safety.
Eventually, the shaking slows. Her breathing steadies. Soon enough she’s asleep in my arms.
I stay like that for a long moment, watching her. Then when I’m sure she won’t stir, I gently lower her onto the mattress and pull the covers up around her. I slip out of the room, closing the door with a soft click.
The moment it shuts, something in me turns. The softness drains out like a blood form a wound. And the monster takes its rightful place.
***
Luca waits for me at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall with a grim look.
“He’s ready,” he tells me. “We kept him breathing. But barely.”
“Good.”
He follows me down the stairs and through the hidden entrance that leads to the torture room. My childhood bedroom. Every time I enter, I remember the parts of me that were still weak, that would have probably been unable to stomach all the things I do now.
And every time I walk out of the room, I’m able to shed away that part of me. The reminder complete, my actions like a baptism.
Santori’s in the center of the room, chained and bloodied. He looks up when I enter. His mouth twitches into a sneer that falters when he sees the look on my face.
“Luciano-” he rasps, his voice hoarse.
“Don’t say anything,” I interrupts coldly. “This will go over much quicker if you don’t speak. But then again, I imagine there won’t be much of a difference.”
His chains click as he shifts, suddenly desperate. He hurt her. He kidnapped my wife and he killed one of my most loyal men.
I’m going to make he feels all the pain, times a hundred. I walk slowly to the metal tray near the wall. It holds everything I need. Blades, pliers, a blowtorch, a bottle of whiskey. Not for him.
I shrug of my jacket, roll my sleeves up and turn to face him fully.
“I want you to feel it,” I say calmly. “Every second of what you felt when you dragged her out of that car. When you shot Rafael right in front of her.”
He flinches. And then I begin.
The first scream echoes off the walls as I sink the blade into his thigh, slowly methodically.
I’m not in a rush. Every slice is deliberate, every scream a lullaby to my fury.
I shatter his kneecap with a hammer, peel skin, break fingers one by one.
He confesses to every action. To sending his men to their death as a taunt, to killing my men and then ultimately working with Miguel in order to take me down.
I don’t stop. I keep going until I get what I want. Until his tears mix with blood. And then when I grow tired, I drive a knife straight into his heart.
Silence. And then I’m done.
Luca hands me a towel and I clean my hands.
“Take care of the body. Make sure everything that happened today is kept under the wraps.”
“You got it, boss. A couple of us are going to head down to the bar, to make a toast in Raf’s honor,” he says and I can see the pain he’s trying to mask behind his eyes.