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Camilla turns again, and she moves her hands up her body, making a show as she leans forward until her tits almost fall out of the ridiculous dress she’s wearing. If I can even call it that.
“Relax,” Kaos murmurs.
“Fuck off,” I snap.
“You losing your shit is exactly what he wants, Kovu. He wants us to retaliate because that proves to everyone here that we had her at the complex and lied about it. We have to remain calm until we see an opportunity to get her out.”
I glare at him, but he’s right. Fuck.
I blow out a breath and force the tension in my shoulders to release.
Camilla meets my eye, and the deep gray does something to settle me, and with those few seconds of eye contact, I realize she’s telling me she’s okay. It sounds fucking bonkers, but I know she’s trying to communicate with me without words.
She looks away, and I glance over at where Crew and Bishop are watching the little show Davenport is putting on for us and notice the same amount of tension in their perfectly-suited bodies.
Usually I’m the clear choice for who is going to lose their shit first, but right now, it’s a wild card.
The song ends, and Camilla moves toward the edge of the stage, her body appearing slightly more relaxed for the first time since she walked up those steps.
“Stop,” Davenport commands, and she pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “Did I tell you that you could stop?”
She opens her mouth to respond but quickly snaps it shut again, instead choosing to silently shake her head. Probably a good choice. My girl has quite the mouth on her, and the last thing we need is for any of us, her included, to escalate an already tense situation.
“Strip,” Davenport says, leaning back in his seat.
Camilla stares at him for long seconds, waiting for the punchline, but when the next song comes on, she looks up at the ceiling as if she’s trying to talk herself into actually going through with this.
But she’s not the only person he’s baiting, and all four of us now have our glares set on the man in question. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and if he thinks his eyes are remaining in their sockets once he sees my little lamb naked, he’s sorely mistaken.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CREW
Iclench my hands so tight my knuckles ache under the pressure, but I keep my face passive, uncaring.
It’s a skill I’ve perfected over many years, but I’ve never been so close to snapping. I pride myself on being in control. I always have. In the years it took to drag us up through the ranks, to follow others, to build a name for ourselves, and to forge our position as the devils who hold the key to the city’s underworld, I became a carefully constructed version of myself, and after my brother died, I became him.
The man I was before ceased to exist, and it wasn’t until Camilla walked into our lives that he started cracking through the surface again.
I swallow the bile that climbs into my throat and meet her fear-filled eyes. It’s rare for her to appear afraid, so fucking rare that seeing it now makes my stomach churn uncomfortably. This is why we had rules, why we swore we would never care for anyone again after Bianca. Emotions make you weak and vulnerable, and I’ve never felt more compromised than I do right now with my heart standing on a stage in front of me, looking at me for answers I simply don’t have.
“Seems she’s hard of hearing, Charles,” Billy Lewis sneers from the other side of him, and I quietly add him to our hit list. As the caretakers of the New York underworld, we usually only help to solve issues within organizations to ensure everything works as it should, but there are times when we have no choice other than to kill people just because they’ve pissed us off.
Billy is about to become one of those cases.
Camilla releases a breath but holds my eyes as she reaches for the hem of her dress and tugs it up over her head, leaving her silky skin bare aside from a flimsy piece of lace between her legs and a bra that pushes her already full tits even higher.
Kaos curses, and I remember he’s the only one of us that hasn’t seen her body. Perhaps this is punishment enough for the part he played in all this.
“And the rest, Pet,” Charles coaxes as he stands from his seat, seemingly snapping Camilla from her trance until she looks away from me.
The loss of eye contact makes my breath stutter in my chest, and I immediately crave her eyes on me again. We need to get her out of here. Tonight.
I watch with horror as Charles makes his way up the stairs, each step bringing him closer to his prey.
Camilla remains rooted in place, her arms at her sides, but I see the effort it takes for her not to cover herself. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her look this vulnerable before. Even when she was backed into a corner at the complex, even when I made her cry with how insensitive I was, she never seemed defeated. Not like this.
And I fucking hate it.
