CHAPTER 77 — SHADOWS AND TRUTHS
CHAPTER 77 — SHADOWS AND TRUTHS
DAMIEN’S POV
The slim masked figure who’d dropped from the rafters moved like a shadow through Marco’s men, their movements was precise and brutal. The figure took two men down before anyone could draw out their weapon and a third was disarmed with nothing more than a twist of the wrist.
I’d seen enough fights in my casinos to recognize trained skill when I saw it and this wasn’t some street thug.
“Who the hell?” one of Marco’s men managed to choke out before the figure slammed his face into a stack of wooden crates.
I signaled my team forward and we moved in formation, securing the perimeter while Alistair worked to stabilize George Lancaster.
Violet stood frozen in the center of the room, her eyes wide as she watched the masked warrior take down a fourth man with a perfectly executed throw.
Then the figure turned toward us and pulled off their mask.
“Laura?” Donovan’s voice was barely a whisper, but we all heard it.
She pushed her dark hair back from her face, sweat beading on her forehead.
“I told you I’d comeback,” she said, her eyes moving from Donovan to me and then to Alistair, she looks as if she was taking us all in like she’d memorized every line on our faces in the years she’d been gone.
“Where did you go again?” Alistair asked, not taking his eyes off her even as he finished bandaging George’s wrist.
“Training,” she said simply, moving to help Violet steady her father.
“I told you your father staged my accident but I didn't tell you that your father tried to have me killed after the accident he staged and I also didn't tell you that Marco found me bleeding in that alley and offered me a choice to die, or to become strong enough to never be a victim again.”
The floor beneath us rumbled, and dust rained from the ceiling. Marco’s voice echoed up from the hole he’d fallen through.
“You think this changes anything? My men are already moving on your properties!”
I pulled out my phone, there's no signal. Of course. Marco would have jammed every frequency in the area.
“Everyone move!” I shouted, grabbing Violet’s arm.
“This place isn’t stable, he must have wired it to blow!”
We scrambled toward the back exit just as explosions rocked the building, sending crates flying and walls cracking apart.
Laura took point, clearing debris from our path with strength that made even my seasoned men pause for a moment. Alistair supported George while Donovan covered our rear, firing warning shots at any of Marco’s men who tried to follow us.
We burst out into the alley to find our vehicles in flames, black smoke were spreading into the Milan sky.
“On foot!” Donovan yelled, scanning the narrow streets that goes through the old quarter.
“Ensure to tick together, we'll move fast and quietly!”
We ran through the streets while ducking down narrow passages and climbing over courtyard walls.
The sound of sirens wailed in the distance, but we knew better than to alert them.
Laura led us to a hidden door that's set into the brick wall of an abandoned church, punching in a code that opened into a network of tunnels that's seems as if they're beneath the city.
“These go all the way to the river,” she said, lighting a flashlight as we descended into cool darkness.
Violet walked beside me, her hand brushing mine every few steps as we navigated the narrow passages.
Even in the dark, I could see how pale she was and how her shoulders always tensed up at every drip of water or scurry of rats in the shadows.
“Hey,” I said quietly, slowing my pace to match hers.
“You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
She turned to look at me, and in the flashlight glow, I saw tears tracking through the dust on her cheeks.
“My mother, she chose him over us. Over me.”
I pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“She made her choices. But you’ve got me now. All of us.”
She leaned into me, her body warm against mine even through our blood-stained clothes. “I hope so,” she whispered.
“Wat scares me most is, if I’m not strong enough to stand with all of you?”
Before I could answer, Donovan’s voice echoed down the tunnel.
“Light ahead, stay alert!”
We walked into a hidden courtyard that's behind a waterfront restaurant, where a sleek black yacht bobbed at a private dock. My second-in-command, Rico, stood at the gangplank with a handful of armed men, he's alive and well despite the injuries he’d taken the night before.
“Boss,” he said, nodding to me.
“Got your emergency signal. We’re ready to move out.”
As we boarded the yacht, I pulled Violet aside at the rail, the Mediterranean breeze whipping her hair across her face. I cupped her cheeks in my hands, letting her feel the heat of my palms against her cool skin.
“You’re stronger than you know,” I said, my thumb tracing her lower lip.
“Stronger than anyone I know. That’s why we all...”
Suddenly, out of nowhere, I feel a desperate urge to kiss the hell out of her.
I didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, I kissed her, hard and deep, pouring every bit of emotion I’d been holding back into that single moment.
She paused for a moment, perhaps surprised at the kiss, but she kissed me back with equal fire, her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer like she never wanted to let go.
We pulled apart when Donovan called us to the bridge, but the connection between us hummed in the air like live wire.
As the yacht pulled away from the dock, leaving Milan’s skyline behind us, I knew nothing would ever be the same again.