15. Camilla
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CAMILLA
I sit at the end of the table with my heart in my throat, waiting for the guests of the Syndicate. I’m no stranger to being surrounded by powerful men, but when these people could be the difference between us winning and us losing, there’s a lot more on the line than I would like.
I’m also aware of the fact that even though these people are allies of the Syndicate, they aren’t necessarily allies of one another, and that in itself brings its own risk.
Kovu reaches beneath the table and grasps my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. We’re not sitting in our usual places today, and I don’t know whether I should be unnerved by that fact or not. After our last few outings, I’m used to having Bishop and Crew on either side of me, with Kaos and Kovu at our backs, but that won’t be happening today. Today we’re all seated and in no particular formation.
Crew steps into the dining room with a smile spread across his handsome face, and I realize for the first time that this smile is for someone other than me or my other three men. Are these allies the closest thing the men of the Legion have to friends aside from Elias and Wyatt?
He pauses just inside the door and waits for the person following him to step into the room. He’s an inch or so taller than Crew, with ice-blue eyes and a headful of dark hair. His suit is just as impeccable as Crew’s, and he exudes confidence and power. “Storm Saint James, this is Camilla De Marco, the new head of the De Marco Mafia family.”
He meets my eye, and the intensity of his gaze almost makes me look away, but I was taught better than that, and the last thing I need is another man underestimating me. “It’s nice to meet you, Camilla.”
I give him a tight smile as he takes his seat along the edge of the long table, while I flick my eyes up to the next person who comes through the door.
He’s a few years younger than Storm, but his piercing green eyes and perfectly styled blond hair make him no less attractive. He’s wearing a pair of black slacks and a black shirt with the top few buttons open. His entire demeanor exudes danger.
“This is Elijah Russo, the leader of the Russo family and Storm’s brother-in-law.” Crew smirks.
“Don’t remind me,” Storm mutters as Elijah takes a seat beside him with a wicked smile stretched across his handsome face.
“You love me,” Elijah jests.
“I tolerate you, don’t get your hopes up,” Storm replies, but there’s obvious affection between the two men. I’d heard through the grapevine that Elijah had married Storm’s sister, despite the fact the families have been mortal enemies for decades. I guess this just confirms the rumors were true.
The next man through the door is the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. His dark brown hair is clipped at the sides and longer on the top, and his eyes are so dark they almost seem black. His chiseled jaw is covered by a thick dusting of stubble, and his all-black suit fits his muscular body to a tee. Jesus, if any more attractive men walk through the door, we might have a pissing contest on our hands.
“Gabriel Wolff, head of the Wolff family in Las Vegas,” Crew introduces, but the man barely spares any of us a glance as he takes his seat on the opposite side of the table to Storm and Elijah.
The next person through the door is the youngest so far, probably around the same age as Bishop. His dark brown hair is messy in the kind of way you know took a while to perfect, and his emerald green eyes are wary as he takes a seat beside Gabriel. There’s tension in his chiseled jaw as he straightens his well-fitted charcoal suit.
“Bryant Hayes. There has recently been a change in the structure of the Hayes family in Boston, and all four brothers run the business as equals,” Crew explains.
I’m so overwhelmed with the amount of testosterone already filling the room I’m not sure how we could possibly fit anymore in, and yet the next person through the door is perhaps the most dangerous-looking man I’ve ever seen. His eyes so light they almost seem unnatural as they survey the room. His black hair is slicked back, and he wears an all-black suit that just adds to the danger he exudes.
His eyes fall on Storm and Elijah, and his jaw clicks under the pressure as he sits beside Bryant, his hands fisted beneath the table.
“This is Damon Lombardi, the next in line to take over the Lombardi family down in Florida.”
The tension in the room is so thick you could cut a knife through it, and I’m not the only one feeling it. Kovu’s hand on my knee tightens as he takes in everyone already sitting at the table and braces himself for the remaining people to come through the door. From what Crew was telling me before they arrived, I think there’s only two allies left to arrive, and I hope like hell there’s less animosity between them than what’s already in the room.
Another man appears in the doorway, his light brown hair is short at the sides and a little longer on top, but it’s his amber eyes that catch my attention. His sharp jaw is set tight as he takes in the room and walks around the table to sit beside Elijah.
“This is Bennett Savage. His family works out of Seattle and are known for taking care of problems.”
They’re hitmen. I’ve heard of the infamous Savage family. There’s no one they can’t get to. No one they can’t kill. Having people like them on our side gives me an odd sense of comfort, even if everyone in the room has tensed since he walked in.
I flick my gaze back to the doorway just in time to see the last man stop beside Crew, his violet eyes moving over every person sitting at the table. He’s a little older than the rest of the table, probably closer to Crew’s age than any of ours. His dark hair is messy and untamed, but his perfectly-fitted navy suit is all he needs to seem perfectly put together.
As he moves to take a seat at the opposite end of the table to me, Crew clears his throat. “And this is Beckham Huntley. He runs guns down in San Francisco.”
I let out a steadying breath as I regard each of them. I’ve never felt more like the lamb in the lion’s den than I do right now, but I’m not going to let any of them know that.
“Thank you for coming,” I say, keeping the mask I spent my life mastering in place.
“When the Syndicate calls, you’d be stupid not the answer.” Elijah shrugs as he leans back in his seat. He seems calm considering I’ve heard he has beef with at least three people in the room, but you don’t get the reputation he has by being afraid, and I have little doubt he could take them all out here and now if he really wanted to.
“What are we doing here, Crew?” Bennett asks as Bishop and Kaos file into the room and take their seats beside Elias.
Crew moves around the table to sit beside me and immediately drops his hand to my other thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We need your help.”