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I glance up and find Noah Thorne standing beside me, his icy blue eyes filling with rare amusement. The man is almost as cold as I am, and that’s saying something. When his dad kicks the bucket, we’re going to have a much easier time managing his family because Noah doesn’t whine even half as much as his father does about the most stupid shit.
The older members of the five families get more and more exhausting with each year that passes. Can’t they all just kill each other already so their kids can take over?
“It’s always like this after the holidays,” I tell him as he runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair. He’s wearing a suit despite where we are, and I shake my head. He and Bishop are a match made in fucking heaven. Maybe I can set them up and keep my lamb to myself.
Even as the thought filters through my mind, I dismiss it, and none of the reasons include the fact they’re both straight alpha males. The truth is, the idea of sharing Camilla is almost as intoxicating as the woman herself.
There’s something about sharing a woman that the four of us have always enjoyed. Caleb was never interested, always wanting to keep his women to himself, but the rest of us found solace in it, and now I crave it. It’s not that I don’t fuck alone, because I do, but it’s never quite as enjoyable as overwhelming a woman with eight hands and four cocks.
“You getting in the ring tonight?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. Not tonight.”
He flashes me a surprised look. “You harboring some injury I can’t see?” He looks up and down at my torn jeans and tight black shirt.
“No injury. Just not fighting.”
He blows out an amused breath but keeps his mouth shut.
“What are you doing here anyway? This is a little far from your usual business.”
He glances around at the growing crowd before turning back to me. “I was looking for someone, but they don’t seem to be here tonight.”
“You were looking for one of these ugly assholes?”
“No. Someone else,” he tells me cryptically. “What’s this I hear about Davenport trying to start a coup?”
The sound of his name has my hackles rising. He wants my lamb. He wants to take her from me. He wants to hurt her. But I won’t let him. That right is mine and mine alone. “He’s an asshole,” is all I manage to force out through clenched teeth.
“He called my dad, and he hung up on him,” he tells me. “So then he called me, thinking he would get a different answer. Said something about you not helping him get back something that belongs to him.”
He’s fishing for more information, but he should know that none of us break easily. No one is getting information from us unless we’re offering it up.
“He and De Marco did a deal a long time ago, and when De Marco died, the contract died with him.” I shrug. “That’s how we’ve always done things, and we’re not changing it because he’s throwing a temper tantrum.”
Noah chuckles, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “That sounds like him. He was real cryptic when he called me, wanted to meet in person, but I don’t have the time to help him with a hostile takeover right now.”
I laugh and turn my attention back to the fight. “Good to know we don’t need to worry about you.”
“We’re happy with how things run, and we don’t intend on ruining a good thing.” He looks around again before checking the time. “I should get going.”
I nod and watch as he disappears into the crowd. I’ll need to speak to Crew when I get back to the compound. If Charles is trying to cause unrest in the families as well as the Syndicate, we may have bigger problems than we thought.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CAMILLA
We fall into a weird kind of normal routine, and despite my best efforts, I find myself enjoying the company of some of the most ruthless men to ever call New York home.
More and more, I’m allowed out of my room, and I’ve even been permitted to leave the floor I’ve spent all my time on since I arrived.
I’m sitting in the kitchen, eating a bowl of berries that Bishop cut up for me before he had to take a call. I still haven’t quite worked out what this place is or how big it is, but I get the impression that they all live and work here, which probably means it’s pretty big.
The kitchen is on the second level, which I blanched at when I thought I was going to have to climb a flight of stairs, until Bishop led me to a fucking elevator.
I don’t know why I was surprised. I’ve seen how much my dad pays the Legion every month in exchange for their protection and ensuring the grounds of the treaty of the five families is followed to the letter, and it wasn’t a small fucking amount.
I pop a blueberry between my lips and relish in the burst of flavor on my tongue as I look around the expansive kitchen. This thing looks like a chef’s wet dream come to life, but I never learned to cook. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I had other things to learn. Like how to murder a man and how to threaten their entire family into submission.
