The Don's Rebel Pet

The party ended close to midnight.

"Nora, drive us to the docks," Bianca said, clinging to Damon's arm. Her voice was dripping with smug command. "I want to feel the sea breeze with Damon. Talk about our honeymoon. Just the three of us."

Damon didn't object.

He didn't even look at me.

The car keys dug into my palm. "It's late. The docks aren't safe…"

"Are you questioning my decision?" Damon finally turned to me, his gaze like ice.

I closed my eyes.

"I'll get the car."

The docks were dead quiet at night.

Just the sound of waves hitting the pier and the distant horn of a cargo ship.

I parked near the lookout point. In the rearview mirror, I saw Bianca nestled in Damon’s arms.

"It's so beautiful," she said, loud enough for me to hear. "Can we come here every month for a date?"

"If you like," Damon replied, short and to the point.

Like he was completing a task.

It was enough to shatter my heart all over again.

Suddenly, the car doors were ripped open.

Six men in black surrounded us, all holding guns.

"Damon Vitale," the leader said in a low voice. "Long time no see."

I knew that voice.

Viktor.

Old man Kozlov's son. The craziest bastard on the East Side.

"Viktor," Damon's voice was calm. "What do you want?"

"You know what I want," Viktor sneered. "The Vitale-Torrino marriage will give you control of the entire East Coast."

"That's a threat to my family."

"So I've decided to break up the engagement."

The next thing I knew, a cloth was over my mouth. The sick-sweet smell of chloroform filled my lungs before the world went black.

When I opened my eyes again, I was on a derelict cargo ship.

The sea air was freezing.

Bianca and I were hanging from either side of the ship's bow, nothing but black water below us.

The ropes were cutting off my circulation.

"You're awake?" Viktor lit a cigar. "Good."

He pulled out a satellite phone.

"Damon, can you hear me? My men dropped you off back at your estate. How does it feel to be the one left behind?"

"Let them go. Now," Damon's voice crackled through the phone, thick with rage.

"Them?" Viktor laughed. "You're mistaken, Vitale. I'm only letting one go."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you have to make a choice," Viktor said, walking between me and Bianca. "Your future wife… or your favorite pet?"

"Before sunrise, you will trade your West Side weapons line for one of them."

"But only one."

Silence on the other end of the line.

A silence more terrifying than death.

"Damon!" Bianca screamed. "Save me! I'm your fiancée!"

I said nothing.

I knew who he would choose.

Business value. Family interests. The future of his empire.

I was an expired asset. Bianca was the key to an empire. The choice was obvious.

After a long silence, he gritted his teeth and spoke.

"I choose Bianca."

Three words.

They landed like knives in my heart.

"Excellent," Viktor nodded, satisfied. "In that case, this one is going for a swim."

He raised his gun and aimed at the rope holding me.

"No!" Damon yelled through the phone. "Wait! I can give you more!"

"Sorry. Rules are rules," Viktor said, pulling the trigger. "One for one. No bargaining."

Bang!

The bullet snapped the rope and grazed my arm.

A searing pain shot through me.

I was falling.

The water was ice cold, swallowing me whole in an instant.

Blood bloomed in the black water, a dying rose.

I was sinking.

Lungs burning. Vision fading to black.

Is this how it ends?

Five years of love, repaid with a bullet and a cold ocean grave.

I thought of every promise he ever whispered in the dark.

Lies. All of them.

Just as I was about to give up, a strong hand grabbed me.

Someone was pulling me up.

The moment my head broke the surface, I gasped for air.

"It's okay. You're safe now."

A voice with a Russian accent spoke in my ear.

Leo. Of course. He kept his promise.

The speedboat cut through the waves.

I was curled up in the cabin, soaked and bleeding.

But the wound on my arm wasn't what hurt the most. It was my heart.

The heart that had beaten for Damon for five years was slowly dying.

"Go ahead and cry," Leo said, draping a towel over my shoulders. "It will make you feel better."

"I won't cry for him," I said, my voice raw like sandpaper. "He's not worth it."

But the tears fell anyway.

Leo's private doctor cleaned my wound. The bullet had torn right through the scar I'd gotten from saving Damon the first time.

I snatched a scalpel from the tray beside me and aimed it at the wound.

"What are you doing?" Leo grabbed my wrist.

"Cutting him out of me," I said, my voice ice. "He put a tracker in me two years ago."

"Do me a favor. Put this on Damon's desk," I told Leo, my eyes dead calm. "A reminder of our anniversary. The day we met. A day he's long forgotten."

"As of tonight," I added. "Nora is dead."