15. Cassandra
Cassandra
“He can’t hear us,” I cry, tapping on my earpiece as if that will magically make Dominic’s work.
On the monitor, he’s entering the theater, planning to attack the Russians from behind. What he doesn’t know is that they’re headed his way, running from Marco and the others.
“That one’s bleeding,” Sadie says, pointing to one of the Kozlova men. He’s holding his arm while blood gushes from a wound.
“Marco shot him.” Amanda has her hand over her mouth as she stares wide-eyed at the screen.
I reach over and squeeze her shoulder. Being a Mafia wife, you know the risks; you know what your husband does for a living, but in most cases, you never have to see it.
“He had to,” Sadie says. “It was them or us.”
I return to the screen, watching helplessly as Dominic rushes into danger.
“Fuck this,” I mutter. Gripping my dress with one hand and my gun with the other, I lift my skirt so I won’t trip as I run toward the exit of the security hub.
“Cassandra, wait!” Leo chases after, reaching the door as I attempt to pull it open.
“Where’s your key card?” I search him for any sort of badge I can swipe on the console.
“You can’t go down there.” He’s pleading with me, one arm bracing the door, the other hovering in the air as if he wants to grab me and hold me in place.
“Oh, no?” I snap. “Watch me.”
I spot his key card clipped to his belt loop. I grab it and stomp on his foot at the same time.
I cringe as he curses. My stiletto is going to leave a mark.
“I’m sorry, Leo!” I call as I rush out of the room and past a collection of Romano-Tariello soldiers, stationed in the hallway.
“Miss Bain?” One of the men I recognize watches me with concern as I pass by.
I don’t stop. I’m on a mission to get to the theater before Dominic puts himself in a situation he can’t get out of.
Memories from last year at the theater at Il Palazzo have my chest tighten in fear.
Dominic, on the ground, bleeding out.
Me, staring down the barrel of an enemy’s gun.
Pulling the trigger of my own.
Watching Alexy Kozlova die.
I’m in the elevator before I hear Leo calling my name.
It’s too late.
I’m already gone.
I stumble into the first-floor staff hallway. To my right, Romano-Tariello men gather near a corner. They’re yelling to each other as they try to decipher orders from Lucas.
Not waiting to be caught, I turn to my left, following the same hallway Dominic did.
I go as fast as I can until my ankle twists, and my bad foot gives out.
Fucking heels.
I rip off my shoes, stand back up, and haul my skirt up my thighs. There’s no way in hell I’m letting a pair of Jimmy Choos stop me.
Dominic never closed the side entrance to the theater, so I slide through the doorway without a sound. I no longer hear chatter in my earpiece, so I rip it out. As soon as my hearing returns to normal, I listen for any sign of Dominic.
With bare feet, I do my best ballet walk, silent, meant to muffle the box on a pointe shoe, and take the short staircase up to the stage. My breath catches in my throat when I spot a sliver of light coming from backstage. Sneaking through the wings, I peek past a curtain and sigh in relief.
I’ve made it to Dominic on time.
Except he’s about to go exactly where he shouldn’t.
As he steps through the doorway, I run toward him, wrapping my hands around the metal knob as he pulls it closed.
He only fights for a second, not long enough for me to announce my arrival before the door swings wide to reveal Dominic with his gun aimed perfectly at my head.
I freeze as his finger twitches on the trigger, and his brows dip.
He blinks, and his finger straightens out before he drops his gun and groans.
“Oh, Jesus Christ. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Your earpiece went out,” I say, my heart pounding from almost getting shot by my fiancé. “The Russians came this way. If you go after them, it’ll be two on one.”
“For fucks sake, Cassandra.” He grabs my arm and pulls me back into the theater. “I’ve had worse odds against me before.”
“But . . .”
“I told you to stay upstairs,” he says through gritted teeth. In the dim light, the gold streaks in his eyes flash like flames.
I shiver underneath his scrutiny.
I misjudged the situation, misjudged him.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
“Now I’ve got to keep you safe.” He rakes a hand through his hair, scanning the backstage area. “I need you to hide.”
“Where?” I look around. There are curtains and a backdrop, but the sets and props haven’t been delivered yet.
“Over here.” Dominic pulls me away from the door, but we only make it a few steps before the handle twists and a guttural voice mutters a Russian curse.
“Stay close,” Dominic commands. He wraps me tight to his side with his free arm and lifts his gun with the other.
The backstage door opens, and a bleeding Russian stumbles in.
“Blyad!” he curses, gripping his arm.
He never even sees us.
Dominic pulls the trigger of his gun, sending a bullet through the man’s skull and putting him out of his misery.
From outside the door, his friend lets out a stream of Russian obscenities before taking off in a sprint down the hallway.
“Fuck!” Dominic is off before I have time to process his departure. He jumps over the dead body on the floor and races after the other man.
“Oh, God.” I hurry to the doorway and peek my head through, but I can’t see a thing.
Then there’s a pop.
A wail of agony.
Silence.
My heart thunders behind my ribcage as my panic builds. I don’t think about what I’m doing as I step over the corpse on the floor and follow the path Dominic and the Russian took.
I turn a corner and gasp at what I find.
Dominic crouches over the wounded Russian.
The man has a bullet lodged in his abdomen, and he’s slowly bleeding out. But that’s not enough for Dominic.
“Who the fuck sent you here?” Dominic growls as he sticks the barrel of his gun in the man’s wound.
“Fuck.” The man coughs up blood. “You.”
Dominic twists his weapon. “Was it Anatoliy Kozlova? Esteban Perez?”
The man grimaces as his face pales. “You already know.” Blood trickles from his mouth.
“How many of you are there in Vegas?”
The man’s head lolls to the side.
“I asked you a fucking question!” Dominic punches the man in the face, earning a weak grunt.
I’m horrified, but not by Dominic. No. It’s my reaction to my fiancé’s knack for violence that has my gut churning.
Because, right now, covered in another man’s blood, adding two kills to his count, Dominic could not be more attractive.
I’m no longer listening to him abuse his victim. All I can think about is the way he held me close as he kept a steady arm and made a perfect shot.
In the direst of situations, Dominic protected me—kept me safe.
Dominic has rescued me before, but I’ve also rescued him. It’s not until now that I realized exactly how powerful he truly is.
Dominic stands and wipes the dead man’s blood on his slacks.
He slips his gun in the back of his waistband and takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He hangs his head, surveying the damage he inflicted on the lifeless body. “I never wanted you to see that side of me, Cassandra.”
Dominic’s eyes meet mine. The turmoil in his gaze makes my heart ache. He wants to be a good man for me, but he was born into a world of violence and crime. As much as he tries to separate me from the demons that lurk in the shadows, he’ll never be able to give me a completely normal life.
“Dominic,” I say, eyes raking over his form. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to you than I am right now.”
His mouth drops open, and his brows shoot up. “Holy fuck.” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know.” I laugh. “But if you can find an open room, I’ll have my dress off in about two seconds flat.”
Marco’s voice booms down the hallway. “Down here. I think Dominic got to them.”
“Let’s go.” Dominic grabs my hand. He tugs me toward the theater but stops halfway to push me into a side room. He locks the door and flips on the light before I start laughing.
“Fitting,” I say.
As I slink farther into the Pharaoh’s Temple dressing room, Dominic stalks toward me. His jacket hits the floor, and goosebumps break out across my flesh.
“What were you saying about that dress, Miss Bain?”
His tie drops next.
“I was saying it might look better on the ground.” With a wink, I untie the halter top, then reach back and pull down the zipper.
The gold silk slides off my body and pools at my feet.
“I hope you know, this is the reward I always want after winning a fight.” Dominic crashes against me, mouth molding to mine, and I let out an unrestrained moan.
As I work to catch my breath, I lick along his neck until I reach his ear and whisper, “Lucky for you, this is the reward I always want to give.”