Vows and Vendettas

Chapter 17

Dante

Cass rounds the last corner, and the main road that leads into the warehouse district comes into view. Seconds later, he slams on the brakes; the tires go skidding across the asphalt several feet before the car jerks to a stop right behind a blacked‑out Suburban with its doors wide open.

The first thing I register is the utter chaos that is unfolding before me. Two vehicles have Rocco's car boxed in, one in the front, the other at the back. Rocco's door is also open, and he is currently fighting off three masked men. Correction: two. One of the men falls to the ground hard after Blair's bodyguard's fist connects with the man's jaw. His head bounces off the asphalt, likely causing some level of brain damage. The remaining two goons are on Rocco in the blink of an eye as they try to bring down a man who is built like a f*cking mountain.

The second thing that caught my attention was the fact that some bastard is currently dragging my wife across the worn roadway to the Suburban in front by her f*cking hair. She's kicking and screaming, her hands clawing at his hold on her hair, but it never loosens. For a split second, everything inside me goes completely still. Everything around me slowly starts to tunnel until all I can see is Blair’s body being yanked across the asphalt.

Boiling rage is the only way I can think of to accurately describe this feeling that has come over me. I’ve done my fair share of f*cked up sh*t in my life, but this homicidal feeling is far different from anything else I have ever experienced. It's darker.

There is so much pandemonium happening that the remaining thugs and even Rocco haven't realized that they aren't alone anymore. That changes though, when a shot rings out through the opening, only to be followed by an ear-piercing scream from the f*cker who is trying to shove a struggling Blair into the backseat. It's loud enough to snap every head in our direction.

The man’s hands fall away from my wife to the hole that I just put in his knee. A slew of Italian curses spill from his mouth as he stumbles backwards before falling to the ground. Blood instantly begins to soak through the dark fabric of his pants before transferring to his hands as he fights to stop the flow.

Loose gravel crunches beneath my shoes as I start to stalk towards him. My entire being is humming with my desire to put another right between his eyes, to watch the life drain out of him for daring to put his f*cking hands on my wife. But death would be far too easy for him. He dragged her by her f*cking hair before shoving her into the back of an SUV. I’ll be damned if I let this as*hole get an easy way out.

“He’ll just send others,” the man hisses between his teeth when his gaze finds mine. “You think you’ll win, but you won’t.”

I don't need him to say the name.

I know it already. I figured last night would have provoked him, but kidnapping wasn't at the top of my bingo card for his method of retaliation. I let a smile slowly pull at the corner of my mouth as I approached him. His eyes widened slightly, and I can see the exact moment he realizes that whatever is about to happen next is going to be far worse than the bullet that I had just put in his knee.

It's highly entertaining that he assumes that I will be scared of what Luca Voss will do next.

“Let him. Every man that he sends will end up just like you and the rest of your guys.”

I have never heard my own voice sound as cold as it does in that second before I let my foot connect with his already bloody face.

The sound of bones splintering fills the air, and soon his eyes roll to the back of his head, and his body crumbles backward. He isn't dead yet; the steady rise and fall of his chest is proof of that.

But his breaths are numbered from this point forward.

Every ounce of oxygen is knocked clean out of my body when I turn around to find Blair watching what just happened from the backseat. The interior dome light illuminates her figure in the tinted-out interior. She’s half‑curled against the seat; her eyes are wide and unblinking, making her look like she’s been dropped into the middle of a nightmare and is having a hard time getting out of it.

I tuck my weapon behind my back and go to her, slowly. Her gaze doesn’t follow me — it’s locked on the unconscious man at my feet, her expression distant in a way I’ve never seen on her before. It’s almost as if she is somewhere else completely.

“Blair,” I call to her, but it's like she doesn't even hear me.

Her stare just shifts, drifting past the man beside us to another body I hadn’t noticed. He’s sprawled near Rocco’s car, glass shards scattered around him like ice that doesn't melt. A dark, wet spot has spread across his chest. Even with the dark fabric, it’s unmistakably blood.

“You good?” Cass calls as he rounds the back of the Suburban and finds us.

Rocco isn't that far behind him. Cass, of course, looks like he barely broke a sweat, while poor Rocco looks like he got the sh*t beat out of him. His brows are pulled together so tightly that they look like they might fuse together when he spots Blair.

Now is not the time to kill him. My wife has been through enough and, despite my jealousy, she likes having the f*cker around, I remind myself.

“I killed him,” Blair mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper as she stares at the corpse.

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, but she doesn't let them fall, even as her breathing shifts, each breath growing shallower than the last. Slipping my finger beneath her chin, I tilt her head back until she is no longer looking at the body but at me. Her eyes are glassy, but she doesn't look away.

“You did good, moglie. You did what was necessary to protect yourself. Never, ever feel remorse for that.”

“Yours still breathing?” I ask while turning to face my men.

I hadn't heard another gun go off, but that doesn't mean anything. There are a number of ways to kill a man silently, and the two men before me are experts in making that a reality.

“Barely. Want me to finish him off?” Cass answers, while already pulling his pistol out from behind his back.

Glancing back over to Blair, I see her lips part, making a small o as she waits to hear her attacker's fate. “Not here. There has been enough gunfire. Tie them up and bring them to the warehouse, and have the others come clean this mess up before someone stumbles across it. We don't need the cops asking questions.”

They both nod and walk away, Cass already pulling his phone from his pocket to make the call. This is going to be a giant f*cking mess to clean up, but my guys are the best, so I trust them to make sure that by this evening you would never be able to tell that anything happened here.

I get a good look at my wife once the two of them are gone again. Her dress is dirty and torn in multiple places; there are also scrapes up and down her arms and legs. Maybe even a touch of road rash over her hip from where this f*cker dragged her. Her wrist also looks to be a little swollen, and she winces when I barely brush my finger over the area.

Rage burns hot throughout my chest as I glance back over my shoulder at the man lying motionless on the asphalt. By the time I am finished with him later, he is going to beg me to put him out of his misery.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

I offer her my hand and wait until she slips her hand into it. Her palm is cool and clammy as her adrenaline levels drop. We make our way back to Cass’s car, and I help her inside and buckle her in. We aren't going that far, just another mile down the road, but the movement soothes a part of me that I hadn't realized was terrified something would happen to her after I got that call.

If Cass hadn't already been sitting in the driver's seat, I would have shoved him right out of the way. Once again, my wife has managed to make me have these feelings and emotions that are completely foreign to me.

The entire drive, Blair remains silent. Every few seconds, my eyes leave the road to check to make sure that she is still okay. Killing someone is a big deal, and it's even bigger when it's your first. It changes you in a way that you can never get back. Like in that same moment, a part of you also dies with that person, whether they deserved to die or not.

The trembling in her hands appears to have stopped, and now they are clenched into tight little fists in her lap. There’s also a certain set to her jaw that makes me think that her initial shock has passed and now she wants answers.

Gravel crunches beneath the tires as I pull Cass’s car into the empty bay of one of my warehouses that has been — repurposed for certain jobs that require privacy. To anyone who wasn't already familiar with the area, it would look like your typical run-down warehouse that had seen better days — fifty years ago to be exact. The floor had several old conveyor belts that made their way through a portion of the space. Old, rusted pieces of metal sat in a pile over in the corner, bent at odd angles. Dust also covered every surface, and more than half of the panel windows were either broken or knocked out completely, letting in the salty scent from the bay.

Blair glances out her window as the car comes to a stop, taking in the derelict building I brought her to. She probably assumed I would take her back to the penthouse, but that would be the first place that Luca would look for her again.

There is also far more to this building than what's on the surface.

“Come. Cass and Rocco will be here soon. And I want to get you cleaned up and changed beforehand,” I tell her while already reaching for the handle of my door.

Blair slowly turns her head until she is fully facing me. Her shoulders are rolled back, and she lifts her head high even as her fingers curl tightly around the torn edges of her dress. “Who is going to send more?” Her voice is surprisingly more calm than I expected.

I really shouldn't have been all that surprised that even in her detached state, she heard what that piece of sh*t said before I knocked him out. Luca’s goons also never knew how to keep their mouths shut.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll handle it,” I tell her while raking a hand through my hair.

The last thing she needs to worry about is who sent them in the first place. It’s my job to protect her and avenge her, and that is exactly what I am going to do the moment that I get her sleazy ex-fiancé all to myself. The narrowing of her eyes tells me she isn't going to accept that, and she is about to make sure that I know it.

“You’ll handle it?” she snaps loudly, her entire body practically vibrating in her seat. “You’ll f*cking handle it? That's what you give me after I was just almost kidnapped — again?”

I don't have a chance to ask what the actual f*ck she meant by — again.

She shoves her door open so hard the entire car jolts, the hinges groaning in protest as she slips out in one smooth motion before slamming it back closed with a crack loud enough that it echoes through the entire warehouse, the sound bouncing off the metal beams overhead.

She is already stalking away towards the open bay that we just came through when I follow after her. “Stop!”

Her steps falter, and she slowly turns around to glare daggers in my direction. She is so mad right now that I am surprised that steam isn't pouring out of her ears. She can be as angry as she wants later because either I just misheard her completely or she just said that this isn't the first time that someone has attempted to kidnap her.

My mind starts spinning, already conjuring up a handful of different scenarios to when Blair could have been taken. If I haven't been with her, then Rocco or Michael has. There is no way that any other attack could have taken place and the two men would not have brought it to my attention.

“You’ve been almost kidnapped before?” I snap, my tone sharp. “When?”

Blair crosses her arms over the front of her torn and dirty dress. Her normal fire slowly starting to return. “It doesn't matter.”

My anger roars back to life, the size of an inferno that could take down this entire building as I stalk towards her. I closed the distance between us in seconds. My shadow falling over her, forcing her to tilt her head back slightly to look into my eyes. “It most certainly does matter. Now answer me, moglie.” I demand. “When did this other, almost attack happen?”

I have to fight to keep my temper from exploding outward completely because none of it makes any kind of sense. This was Luca. I know that for a fact.

“Long before you inserted yourself into my life,” she bit out. “It was handled then too, if you must know,” she adds almost sarcastically.

I go through every little thing that I know about my wife, everything that I have learned since marrying her. If there was an attempt to kidnap her and her father knew about it, he would have mentioned it that night when I came to him. But he hadn't. So that can only mean that if there was another attack, that Blair's father must not have been aware of it.

I tilt my head and look back down at Blair. If the situation was handled, and it wasn't by her father, then that means—

Realization smacks me so f*cking hard in the face.

That sneaky son of a b*tch.

That's how he did it. How he got close enough to a rival, Don's only daughter, and wooed her into not only a relationship but into marrying him.

“Tell me something. Was the person who handled it the first time your ex-fiancé?”