9. Chapter 9 Kamilla
Chapter 9: Kamilla
I watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as the sleek black limousine pulled up to the curb. The Irish had decided to enlist the help of the Italian mafia in our war against the Bratva. While I understood the strategic value of such an alliance, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease at the thought of working with yet another group of ruthless criminals.
I felt a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth as I glanced over at Seamus, who was standing beside me with his arms crossed and his face set in its usual non-descript expression. We hadn't had sex yet, but he was keeping me busy and satisfied with his mouth and fingers; but he still wouldn’t let me touch him. It was driving me crazy.
The door of the limo opened, and a figure emerged. A woman, small and curvy and absolutely gorgeous, with dark hair and even darker eyes. She was dressed in a dark red dress that clung to her curves like a second skin.
Aria Conti.
The Queen of the Italian mafia. A woman who had clawed her way to the top of a man's world, who had fought and fucked and spilled blood to claim her place as the undisputed ruler of her criminal empire.
I couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration as I watched her saunter towards us, her heels clicking on the pavement as she eyed the Irish men like they were her new snack.
"Kamilla Sokolova," Aria purred, her voice rich and smoky and laced with a hint of an Italian accent. "I've heard so much about you, but you look different in person.”
I inclined my head, a smirk playing about my lips. "Aria Conti. Your reputation precedes you as well. The Black Widow of the Italian mafia, the woman who fucked her way to the top and left a trail of bodies in her wake."
Aria threw her head back and laughed, the sound rich and throaty and genuinely amused. "Oh, I like you already. You're not afraid to speak your mind, are you? Even if it means pissing off the wrong people."
I shrugged, my eyes never leaving hers. "I've found that the wrong people are often the ones most in need of a good pissing off. Keeps them on their toes, reminds them that they're not as untouchable as they think they are."
Aria's grin widened, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "That’s the fucking truth. Which reminds me."
She turned to the man standing behind her, a hulking beast of a guy with a shaved head and a face that looked like it had been carved from granite. "Liam, darling, come here and meet my new friends."
The man - Liam, apparently - stepped forward, his expression blank and unreadable. He was huge, taller than Seamus and twice as broad, with shoulders that strained against the fabric of his suit jacket. But it was his eyes that caught my attention, a piercing blue that seemed to see straight through me. Seamus nodded to him and Liam glared at him.
"Liam O'Rourke," Aria said, her hand resting on his arm in a gesture that was both possessive and dismissive. "My new bodyguard, courtesy of our dear friends in the Irish. To make sure I don’t upset anyone with this new deal between us all.” Aria looked at Seamus and then back at me. “Apparently, he's quite the specimen. Loyal, lethal, and hung like a fucking horse, if the rumors are to be believed. I’m so glad for something new to play with.”
I felt Seamus stiffen beside me, and I shot him a warning glance. The last thing we needed was for Aria to get her way and upset the Irish before we even had discussed anything.
“Thank you, Liam. Cara said she sent someone to help smooth any negotiations.” I said, nodding to him.
Liam, for his part, remained impassive, his gaze flickering over me and Seamus. He looked like he wasn’t enjoying his new assignment. "A pleasure," he said, his voice a low, rasping growl that sent a shiver down my spine.
Aria smirked, her fingers tightening on Liam's arm. "Oh, I'm counting on it, darling. See, I have a little theory about you, Liam. About why the Irish were so eager to send you to me, to put you in such close proximity to their new ally."
I raised an eyebrow. "And what theory might that be?"
Aria's grin turned positively wicked, her eyes glittering with a kind of feral, predatory hunger. "I think they're afraid of me. Afraid of what I might do if I get it into my head that they're trying to double-cross me. So, they sent me Liam as a kind of insurance policy. A way to keep me in line, to remind me of just how easily they could snuff me out if I step out of line, even if he would die doing it."
I felt a flicker of unease, and I could sense Seamus standing taller beside me. "And what makes you think they would do something like that? The Irish are many things, but stupid isn't one of them. They know how valuable an ally you could be, how much they stand to gain from working with you."
Aria shrugged, her smile turning sharp and brittle. "Oh, I don't doubt that they see the value in our little arrangement. But I also know that people like Finn Gallagher and Cara Maguire are not the type to share power easily. They'll use me as long as I'm useful, as long as I'm playing by their rules. But the second I step out of line, the second I start to become more of a liability than an asset." She made a slashing motion across her throat. "They'll gut me like a fish. Just like I did to my own father when he tried to sell me off to the highest bidder like a piece of cattle."
I felt a chill run through me. I knew all too well what it was like to be seen as a commodity.
"I understand," I said softly, holding Aria's gaze with my own. "Believe me, I understand. And I promise you, I will never let anything happen to you. The Irish and Italians are run by queens, and I just want to make sure the Russians are as well. Between the three of us queens we can make a difference for other women. We can make it better.”
Aria's eyes softened, just for a moment. "I appreciate the sentiment, Kamilla. Really, I do. But I've learned the hard way that promises are cheap, and loyalty is a fucking myth. The only person I can count on is myself."
She turned to Liam, her hand sliding up his arm to grip the back of his neck. "And that's where you come in, my darling Liam. See, I don't trust a single fucking one of these Irish bastards as far as I can throw them. But you? You, I think I can work with. Because as long as you're by my side, as long as you're watching my back and keeping me safe, they wouldn't dare try anything. They know that if they did, if they even thought about double-crossing me." She leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of Liam's ear. "I'd gut you too. I'd carve you up into little pieces and send you back to them in a fucking box, just to remind them of what happens when you fuck with Aria Conti."
Liam remained stoic, his expression never flickering. But I saw the way his hands clenched at his sides, the way the muscles in his jaw ticked and jumped. He was a man who desired the woman and her power. I could practically smell it on him. Aria had gotten under his skin, had wormed her way into his head and his heart and his fucking balls, and he was struggling to reconcile that with his duty and his honor to the Irish.
It was a heady thing to witness, the push and pull of two immovable objects, two unstoppable forces. I couldn't help but wonder who would come out on top, in the end. The Black Widow or the Irish Wolf.
Seamus coughed beside me before I escorted Aria inside the Irish compound, before Cara, Aria and myself locked ourselves in the Cara’s office to discuss how we would work together. I would have loved to be the fly on the wall to hear the conversation between Seamus and Liam. What advice would he give Liam to keep Aria happy? And will he take his own advice?