13. Chapter 13 Seamus
Chapter 13: Seamus
I watched as Kamilla paced the length of her room, her steps quick and agitated, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. It had only been a day since she claimed the crown, but the weight of her new responsibilities, was pressing down on her like a physical thing.
"I can't believe it," she muttered, more to herself than to me. "I won but now what? Where do I start?”
"You're Kamilla Sokolova. The most brilliant, ballsy woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. You now get to do anything you want."
She stopped pacing, turning to face me with a look that was equal parts exasperated and need. "You're biased, O'Malley. And possibly brain-damaged, if you think I'm any of those things."
I snorted, pushing off the wall I'd been leaning against and crossing the room to stand in front of her. "I'm a lot of things, Kamilla. But brain-damaged is not one of them. You know what you what to do, so be a queen and just do it.”
“You're just trying to get into my pants."
I grinned, and hooked my fingers into the waistband of her jeans, tugging her closer. "I'm already in your pants, love. Or did you forget about this morning's little celebration?"
She shivered, her eyes darkening with remembered pleasure. "As if I could forget. I'm still sore in all the right places, you smug bastard."
I chuckled, low and dirty, and leaned in to nip at her earlobe. "Mmm, I like you sore. Like knowing I've left my mark on you, inside and out. Like knowing that every time you move, every time you breathe, you feel me."
She whimpered, her hands coming up to fist in my shirt. "Fuck, Seamus. I'm trying to be serious, trying to think about the future and what the hell I'm going to do now that I'm the fucking queen of the Russian mafia."
I sobered, pulling back. "I know, sweetheart. I know it's a lot. But that's the thing, Kamilla. You're not alone. You have me, and Cara, and the entire might of the Irish mob at your back. We'll help you, in whatever way we can. In whatever way you need."
She stared at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine, and then, slowly, a smile started to curve her lips.
"Stay with me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Be my partner, Seamus. My right-hand man in all things."
I blinked. "Kamilla, are you asking me to marry you?"
Kamilla’s sapphire eyes widened.
"Fuck no, O'Malley. I've had a husband, remember? And look how well that turned out. No, I'm not asking for your ring or your name. I'm asking for you, for your strength and your loyalty and your unwavering support. I'm asking you to stand by my side, to help me rule the Russian kingdom. As my partner, my lover, in all the ways that matter."
I stared at her, my mind reeling, my heart pounding so fucking hard I thought it might crack a rib.
"Yes," I said, the word tearing out of me.
She smiled, the sight so fucking beautiful it stole the breath from my lungs, and then she was kissing me, hard and deep and desperate, like she was trying to crawl inside my skin and make a home there.
I kissed her back just as fiercely, just as frantically, pouring every ounce of love and devotion and sheer fucking adoration I felt for her into the press of my lips and the swipe of my tongue. Just as I was about to lift her up and carry her to the bed, we were interrupted.
A knock sounded at the door. An urgent, insistent pounding.
"This better be important, or I swear to god I'll gut whoever's on the other side of that door." Kamilla grumbled, as she crossed the room and yanked open the door with a scowl that would have sent lesser men running for cover. But the man on the other side wasn't a lesser man. It was Liam.
The look on his face was enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and take notice.
"We have a problem," he said, his voice tight with tension. "A big fucking problem."
Kamilla stiffened, her eyes narrowing. "What kind of problem? And why the fuck are you coming to me with it instead of Aria or Finn?"
Liam glanced over his shoulder, like he was checking for eavesdroppers, before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. As he looked at me. "It's about Piotr," he said, his lips thinning into a hard, unhappy line. "And the Irish. We think. Fuck, we think there's a traitor in your ranks, Seamus. Someone who's been feeding information to the Russians, helping them stay one step ahead of us this whole fucking time."
I felt like I'd been sucker punched. A traitor? In the Irish mob, in the family I had sworn my loyalty and my life to? It was unthinkable.
"How do you know?" I demanded. "What proof do you have of this?"
Liam shook his head. “Not enough. Not yet. But there have been too many coincidences, too many times when the Russians seemed to know our every move before we made it. And then there's this."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper, handing it to Kamilla with a heavy, significant look. She took it, her brow furrowing as she scanned the words scrawled across the page. A look of dawning horror spread across her face.
"What is it?" I asked. "What does it say, Kamilla?"
She swallowed hard, her eyes meeting mine. "It's a message. From Piotr to his contact in the Irish mob. Thanking them for their help, for their loyalty to the true ruler of the Bratva. And promising them a place of honor in his new regime, once he takes back what's his."
This was beyond bad, beyond anything I could have ever imagined or prepared for. If there was a traitor in the Irish mob, if there was someone working against us from the inside, then everything we had fought for, everything we had sacrificed and bled and nearly fucking died for was all at risk.
"We need to tell Cara," I said. "We need to tell her everything, and then we need to find this traitor and put a fucking bullet between their eyes."
Kamilla nodded. "Agreed. But we have to be careful, Seamus. We don't know who we can trust, who might be working against us. We need to keep this quiet, keep it between us and Cara until we know more."
I clenched my jaw, my hands curling into fists at my sides. The thought of keeping secrets from my brothers went against every instinct I had. I knew Kamilla was right. We couldn't take any chances, couldn't risk tipping our hand before we were ready to strike. If that meant keeping this between us, between the three people I trusted most in this world, then I would do whatever it took to protect them.
But once I found them. Then they would pay by own justice.