Damon's eyes closed against the brief rush of anger he felt towards the man who had done that to his love. He didn't want the mental image of the younger version of the man he was with, dirty and crying in the street. He deserved better than that. He had been hurt and shamed as a child by his asshole of a father, but not ever like that. Damon had it much easier. He almost felt ashamed of it.
"If he were alive, I'd be happy to separate his head from his neck," he said evenly, feeling the venom. "I wouldn't want to deny you the privilege though. You and I would pay him a visit that he would only forget as the last of his blood drained, and his life ended."
"L'amore, non meriti questo." It was a simple whisper in the native tongue, but one that was every inch heartfelt.