Manzoni Clan

“What’s wrong?” Damon asked, his hands casually tucked in his pockets, though his gaze was serious.

“It’s... it’s about the men you killed, boss,” the man stammered, swallowing hard. “The ones you took down the day you... took her.”

Damon tilted his head slightly, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “And? Are they back from the dead?”

“No, boss,” the man replied quickly, his voice shaky. “But their don... he’s saying it was an act of war. Claims you took his property, his words, not mine, when you took the girl.”

Damon gave a short laugh, reaching over and brushing a speck of dust from the man’s shoulder, his touch light yet somehow unnerving.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice dangerously soft, “which clan does this ‘don’ belong to?”

“The Manzoni clan, boss,” he answered, a flicker of dread in his eyes.

Damon arched a brow, his lips curling into a faint smirk.  “The Manzoni clan, hmm? I’ve heard of their reputation. Apparently, no one crosses them and lives to tell the tale.”

The man shifted, wiping a nervous hand across his brow. “They’re demanding the girl back… plus five hundred million dollars for damages.”

Damon’s smile faded, a coldness settling in his gaze. “So, he thinks I’ll just hand her over?”

The man hesitated. “Boss, I... I didn’t know what to say. Thought it best you hear it first.”

Damon’s voice lowered, his tone sharp as a blade. “Here’s what you’ll tell the don: I’ll pay for the girl and for damages. Let him name his price. Now, get moving. I want his answer by nightfall."

The man bowed, murmuring, "Yes, boss," before turning on his heel and leaving.

As soon as he was gone, Damon pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he reached one marked simply as "Ghost."

A female voice answered after the first ring. "Don?"

"I have a task for you," Damon said, his tone low and lethal. "I need everything on the Manzoni clan, their don, their operations, strengths, weaknesses, allies, everything. Leave no stone unturned."

There was a pause, and then her voice came back, steady and certain. "Consider it done."

********************************

         

              Anna's POV

I sat in the vehicle, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. Damon had left moments ago, his demeanor cold and unreadable.

The door opened, snapping me out of my thoughts. The same woman from earlier stepped in, holding a bag in her hands. Her face was calm as she settled into the seat opposite me.

She smiled at me, her expression soft and warm. There was a sincerity in her eyes, a kind of purity that didn’t belong in Damon’s dark, twisted world.

"Hi, Anna, we meet again." The kindness in her words, made me hesitate, and for a moment, I wondered how someone like her ended up working for a monster like him.

"You tricked me?" I scoffed, bitterness lacing my voice. "Damon knew I'd let my guard down if he used someone like you."

Her smile faltered, but only slightly.

 She pulled a dress from the garment bag and held it out to me, "I didn’t trick you," she said gently, her voice steady. "I honestly do care about you, Anna. And seeing your mother in that state…" She paused, her eyes softening further. "It grieved me."

I slipped on the flowery top she handed me, grateful it matched the rest of my clothes. At least now I didn’t feel as exposed, even though my nerves were still raw.

I let out a bitter chuckle. "How am I supposed to believe you’re any different from Damon? You work for him."

She didn’t flinch at my accusation. Instead, she clasped her hands in front of her, her tone calm but firm. 

"Because I’m not Damon. Unlike him, I haven’t killed anyone. Damon is abrasive, yes, but I... I prefer diplomacy. I care about the feelings of others."

There was something about her voice that made me comfortable around her. It felt genuine, as if she truly wanted to help. But could I trust her?

"So, you do agree with me," I said, narrowing my eyes. "That Damon is a monster?"

Her lips pressed together in a hesitant line. "Perhaps," she replied carefully.

 It was as if admitting it outright would be dangerous, but denying it would make her a liar.

"So, that means you were taken against your will too," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Why don’t we end this? Report him to the police or something."

She chuckled, the sound dry and almost pitying. "You really have no idea who Damon is, do you?"

"I don’t care who he is," I snapped, my voice rising. "The police can deal with him."

Her smile faded as she shook her head. "The police are afraid of him. Damon isn’t just powerful—he’s untouchable. Some even say he’s a Demon Wolf."

My eyes widened, the term unfamiliar yet chilling. "A Demon Wolf? Like… an actual monster?"

"Rumors," she said quickly, though there was a flicker of unease in her eyes. "But that’s not the point. The point is, Damon is dangerous, and there are other ways to win a battle without fighting head-on."

I leaned forward, my voice laced with suspicion. "Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page about bringing him down. So, what do you propose?"