53. Camilla
Ihold my arm against my body as Crew leads me into the living room. The pain is getting worse by the second, but I’m trying my best to appear as unaffected as possible. Not because I think Crew will look down on me for being in pain, because that’s not the case, but because this is what I was trained to do.
I loved my father, and I truly believe everything he did for and to me prepared me to take his place at such a young age. But some of his methods were not traditional, and one of the main lessons he taught me was to withstand pain.
The sweatpants Crew helped me pull on are so big he had to fold the waistband over and over just so they would stay up, and the shirt isn’t any better. But then, I’m used to wearing their clothes at this point.
“Elias will be here soon to stitch up your arm,” Crew tells me as he walks into the small kitchen and opens the fridge just to close it again.
This is the longest I’ve been around him without him working, and I have a feeling he’s going to struggle to sit still for however long we’re here for.
“Elias?” I ask.
He turns his attention back to me and nods. “He was a medic for the SEALs. I used the emergency phone we keep here to text him.”
“Have you let Bishop know we’re okay?”
“I just texted him to give him an update. Once Elias has been here and your arm is bandaged up, we’ll start planning for what to do next.”
I swallow heavily around the lump in my throat. How the fuck am I going to get control of my own people? They have no confidence in me already, and why would they? I’m eighteen years old, and my father didn’t share my training with anyone outside the immediate family and a few high-ups. Michael and Scott will have poisoned all their opinions of me already, and I don’t know how to sway them back.
I could kill them all. I’d rather not have that many dead bodies on my conscience, but it may be my only option in the beginning to gain control. Or perhaps I could set an example with Scott or Michael. They may be family, but I don’t have the same emotional attachment to them that I probably should, and I have no remorse for what I did to Scott when he thought he could put his hands on me.
A warm hand against my cheek brings me back to the present, and when I look up into Crew’s eyes, I allow myself to breathe. “What’s on your mind, Little Menace?”
I half laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “Apart from who just tried to kill me?” I shake my head and lean back, allowing my eyes to fall closed for a moment. “I’m just thinking about how I’m going to take control of the situation. I can’t let what happened today go unpunished if it was someone within my organization, and if it was outside, then I need to retaliate. Everything is happening so fast I haven’t even had a chance to meet with anyone, and I already know Scott and Michael are going to be ahead of the game. Hell, they probably caught wind of me being alive when Davenport took me and started making moves to take my place.”
“Don’t worry about that now, Camilla. We’ll work it all out.”
I groan. “But that’s the issue. You can’t help me with this. If the other leaders start noticing you’re stepping into things like this, there will be issues. It’s not the role of the Syndicate, which means I’m on my own.”
A growl escapes his throat at the same time he grasps my chin between his fingers and forces me to look at him. “No.”
“No?”
“No. You don’t have to do anything on your own. We’ll work it out. But I am not sending you into any dangerous situations without us being there to support you and, more importantly, protect you.”
I open my mouth to argue, because I know how many issues it will cause if they do just that, but then the door opens and he spins, stepping between me and whoever is walking through the door. The move is a simple one, but it makes my heart clench. Does he realize he just put his body between me and potential danger?
“It’s just us,” a man calls through the apartment, and the tension in Crew’s shoulders melts away.
When he still doesn’t move, I look around him to see two people walk in. The man is around the same height as Crew and every bit as broad, with dark hair and eyes that move over the space looking for potential dangers.
The woman he’s with looks tiny in comparison. Her dark curls fall around her shoulders, and her amber eyes dart around before they settle on me with a soft smile.
“Hi, Crew,” the woman says softly, her hand caught in the man’s much larger one. “And you must be Camilla. It’s so nice to meet you!”
Once again, I’m about to respond when Crew cuts me off. “It’s not safe for you to bring her here,” he snaps.
He rolls his eyes and pulls her further into the room. “Hi, Camilla, I’m Elias Ford, a friend of Crew’s, and this is my fiancée, Leighton.”
“Hi.” I force a smile to my lips. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
“Let’s have a look at this arm of yours.” Elias places a bag down in the middle of the table and rummages through it while Leighton sits across from me.
He turns to me and lifts the arm of my T-shirt before carefully dabbing alcohol onto the wound.
I wince despite myself but manage to keep my body calm as he cleans the blood away until he can see the bullet wound clearly. I knew as soon as it happened that it was only a flesh wound, but if this is what a minor bullet wound feels like, I don’t want to repeat this anytime soon.
“Luckily the bleeding seems to have mostly stopped on its own,” he tells me as he wipes away the last of it. “Wyatt showed me the footage, and you’re lucky as hell this didn’t get you in the chest.”
I feel Crew’s eyes burning into the side of my face, but I ignore him. I’m going to be in a whole lot of trouble if all four of them find out what I did.
“If Leighton pulled a stunt like that, she wouldn’t be sitting for a week.”
My eyes widen, and when I meet her eyes, there’s a soft pink blush on her cheeks. “Luckily you refuse to teach me how to shoot a gun then, huh?”
“Exactly, pretty girl,” he rumbles, and I can’t help but smile at the two of them. They’re very sweet together, and it makes my heart ache for that kind of affection. Obviously, I know each of my men is attracted to me, but will they ever look at me like Elias looks at Leighton? With so much love, even perfect strangers can see it?
I brave a look at Crew and find his brows furrowed as he watches every move Elias makes, his eyes locked with the bullet wound. They may not show the world what I mean to them, but as long as they show me, that’s all that matters.
I yawn and allow my eyes to fall closed. The gentle hum of the television is the only sound within the quiet apartment.
Elias and Leighton left a little while ago, after Leighton and I really hit it off. She’s sweeter than any of the friends I’ve had in the past, but I kind of love that about her. I can be the woman I’ve always felt on the inside while showing the world the cold, callous mafia princess my father trained me to be.
When she invited us to visit the Scarlet Lounge sometime, I immediately accepted, causing Crew to chuckle knowingly. I assume it’s a club of some kind because I’ve never heard of it aside from my dad telling me the Syndicate holds some of their meetings there. But regardless, I think I’d like to see Leighton again.
Crew is on the phone to Bishop giving him an update, and I’m hoping that means we’ll be able to go home soon. I’m exhausted, and the anesthetic Elias injected into my arm when he stitched me up is beginning to wear off.
There’s a gentle click near the back of the apartment, and my eyes flutter open as another yawn escapes. I haven’t taken the time to look around since we got here, but I chalk up the sound to one of the neighbors.
When I hear it again, my stomach flips, and I sit up slowly, keeping my eyes locked on the room past the kitchen. I think it’s a laundry room, which means there’s more than likely a back door. I know all the safe houses have multiple entrance and exit points in case you have to escape quickly, and I swallow heavily.
I carefully stand, keeping my movements small as I make my way down the short hallway to the bedroom Crew carried me into earlier.
“Crew—”
Before I can get the word out, the entire building shakes with an explosion that throws me into a nearby wall.
My head smacks against the hard drywall, and stars dance in my vision as dizziness threatens to overwhelm me.
“Camilla, fuck!” Crew’s voice comes from farther in the room, but my eyes droop closed. The smell of smoke lingers around me, and despite how hard I fight to remain conscious, it’s only a few moments before I lose the battle and allow the darkness to swallow me whole.