Another's Demise

One for my enemy

Cameron

Dane Laurier.

Was the bane of my very existence.

It always led back to his snivelling smile.

Vincent Torres's hand gripped his phone, veins splayed in a portrait of anger across skin, that was too often saved from the true blood and battle of the underworld. He was used to being a commander, the most feared mafia leader and still he was ruled by irrationality.

"I will have Alonso find her," he gritted out, eyes darkening as they swept across me.

"No, have Alonso find Laurier he's the one who will know the poison that is running through Alara."

His gaze steeled, a heavy breath escaping teeth clenched together so tightly I could hear them scrape against each other in the taut silence.

"And you will give me her location?"

"Not a chance," Leo breathed tugging a hand through his hair. There was a worry struck in his eyes, an ocean's blue and I knew what consumed his mind, whether Mel and Alara were ok.

"I did not ask you boy," Vincent hissed, and Leo lurched forward, a burning rage unable to be drowned in his eyes.

I calmed him with a single look, "No, she's never going to be used for her blood again."

"She is my blood," Vincent snarled, storming forward, his gun now trained on me.

There wasn't a whisper of fear in me.

Perhaps it was almost having lost her, having to have lived an entire year without her, without her soothing smile, and bright eyes and warmth that could rival the sun itself.

There was something she had stolen away from me, a sliver of my soul when she left, all the kindness she believed in, held in her palms and not in my heart.

There was nothing left in the hollow where my heart rest and anything that hurt her would drive it to stop feeling anything other than an insatiable anger.

"Blood by birth maybe, but never the blood she chose."

"And what? Melanie Strata is her true blood, that who-"

Leo struck again this time harder, his fist crashing against the slope of Vincent's nose, breaking it less than cleanly. But there was a reason that Vincent was the leader of the Falco Mafia, he swung more expertly, crushing Leo's side, with a well-aimed blow. Leo keeled over only for a moment. His face twisted in zealous rage, he barged forward, hailing down punches on Vincent, a snarl lodged between his teeth as blood poured from his lip as Vincent reciprocated his punch to his face.

I lurched forward, breaking them apart.

"Enough."

"Keep your guard dog under control," Vincent wiped blood and spit from his teeth.

And Leo only laughed, menace in his expression, "That's not the insult you think it is Vince, be careful," he all but gnashed his teeth, "I bite."

"Leo," I whispered so only he could hear, "They're safe, do not allow him to rile you up."

"Bit late for that," he chuckled, but took a gracious step back and nodded.

No more fighting, got you his expression spoke.

I turned to Vincent, "You know as well as I do, you would rather find the cure to the poison than Alara. Because finding her without the other is just damning her, so make the call. Get Alonso to find Dane Laurier."

A beat of silence.

"I am not doing this because you asked Grayson. I'm doing this for my daughter."

He lifted his phone to his ear, barking orders in crisp Italian.

And it was done, Alonso Il Venditore would be trying to find Dane Laurier.

But so would I.

"Leo, come with me," he looked warily over to Vincent.

"You can try following us," I responded to his unspoken question, "But we're not going to Alara."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" his eyes narrowed and it was only then I saw his age, the dips and curves in skin that spoke of a story of life, entrenched in battle and blood each wrinkle a testament to his ruthlessness his experience with young fools.

Of which he thought me one.

But it would be that assumption of me that would unravel his every plan.

I intended for Vincent Torres to follow me out of that door.

To be drawn into the place I needed him.

Far away from Alara.