18. Camilla
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CAMILLA
“ W hat are you doing here?” The surprise in my voice is fake, but they have no way of knowing that.
Charles leans back in his seat with a pleased look tugging at his features. His dark eyes are satisfied as a smirk falls to his lips. If only he knew he wasn’t really the one with the upper hand.
Caleb drops his elbows to the table and leans forward, his hair falling around his shoulders as his eyes that are so similar to Kaos’s peruse my cleavage.
Pig.
“We thought we could have a little chat,” Caleb says.
“Pass,” I reply, my eyes darting toward the car Crew’s in, just like we planned. Every moment of this interaction is scripted, and they don’t even know it.
“Well, according to your very busy schedule, we have the next two hours of your time,” Charles tells me, and I pretend to look shocked.
“I’m meeting an investor.”
“You’re looking at him.”
I sigh and allow my shoulders to drop as I reposition my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose. “What do you want?”
“We came to offer our condolences for your loss,” Caleb says, but he doesn’t bother masking the glee in his tone, and it takes every ounce of control not to reach for the gun in my purse and put a bullet between his eyes. It would be so fucking easy to end this right here and now, but that’s not the plan. It would also be really freaking hard to get away with murder in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded restaurant, even if it is tempting as hell.
“Like you’re not the one that ordered the hit.” My tone is devoid of emotion, but just thinking of the hours I believed Kovu was dead makes my heart ache.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Caleb deadpans.
“That’s funny, because the guy I tortured for answers described you right down to what you were wearing the day you did the deal.” I raise a brow at him, and a hint of surprise crosses his face. “I wouldn’t bother lying to me if I were you. I think we’re past that.”
He considers me for long moments before he nods. “So it would seem.”
“What is it that I can do for you?”
“We came to see if you’re willing to reconsider our offer,” Charles tells me, and a scoff escapes my throat before I can swallow it.
“Let me guess, if I help you take down the Syndicate, you’ll spare their lives. And if I don’t, they’ll all die like Kovu did?” I keep my voice flat but allow a sliver of emotion into my tone when I say his name, selling my grief the best I can.
“You really are a smart one, aren’t you, Camilla?” Caleb smirks.
“I don’t think we’re here to discuss my intelligence,” I retort. “And if we were, you’d know better than to give me such an idiotic compromise. You think I’m going to give you anything after you had the man I love killed?” My voice wobbles ever so slightly, as planned, and I wipe away a fake tear from beneath my dark sunglasses.
“Don’t you want to save the rest of them?” Charles asks.
“I’ll save the rest of them without making a deal with the devil,” I snap. “And when I’m done, the two of you will be wishing for death, just like the guy you hired to kill Kovu was.”
They stare at me for long seconds as if they can’t believe this isn’t going as they planned, but surely it can’t be coming as a surprise to them. I turned them down the last time they came to me with this offer, and I’ll make the same choice every single time they’re stupid enough to think I’m going to join their side of this war.
“You’re making a mistake,” Caleb growls.
A smirk tugs at the corners of my lips. “No, you made a mistake, Caleb. Actually, you’ve made many, but the most recent is forgetting that there’s nothing more powerful than a woman scorned. I suggest you give up on me joining forces with you and start planning for how you’re going to survive the war I’m going to reign down on you for taking Kovu from me.”
It’s long seconds before either of them respond as each of them stares at me like they’ve never had a woman stand up to them before, which, to be fair, is likely the case.
Before they can open their mouths to respond, Crew takes a seat beside me, his sunglasses the same dark shade mine are. He looks hot as fuck dressed in tactical gear, but I kind of miss his suit and tie.
“Gentlemen,” he regards.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to leave the car.” Caleb smirks, likely thinking we didn’t think he’d see Crew, when in reality we were banking on it. Right as we speak, Bishop and Kaos are putting trackers on their car. If Crew is sitting beside me, it means their guards have moved away from the car, allowing them to do what they need without being detected.
Crew drops his hand to mine where it’s resting on the table, giving it a quick squeeze to show our weakness. Honestly, this is my least favorite part of the plan. I don’t want them to know how much it would hurt me to lose them or vice versa, but Crew assured me this was important, and I’m willing to go along with just about any plan they think up if it means we’ll be safe.
“I was just telling these two that I have no intentions of joining their vendetta against the Syndicate,” I say to Crew, but he already knows. He’s heard every word of our conversation through the microphone I have pinned to the inside of my dress.
He nods and turns his attention from me to his brother. “Haven’t you figured out you’re wasting your breath?”
“You’d think so,” Caleb nods, but there’s a ghost of a smirk pulling at his lips that unnerves me. “But then again, I thought the same thing about Kayla back in the day as well.”
Crew stills beside me, and I look up at him, finding his jaw set so tight I’m worried he might crack a tooth under the pressure.
I open my mouth to ask who Kayla is, but I snap it shut again. This is part of their plan. They’re trying to drive a wedge between us, and I’m not going to let them succeed.
“What does Kayla have to do with anything?” Crew forces out through gritted teeth, and Caleb allows his smile free.
“You know, I always thought you’d figure it out. That girl loved Bishop so much, there’s nothing she wouldn’t have done for her son, and I thought you knew that. So why on earth would she put a needle in her arm the same way her father did? She never touched any drugs, and yet when she did, she jumped straight to heroin?”
He’s talking about Bishop’s mother, and suddenly I feel like I shouldn’t be here for this. Neither he nor Crew have ever told me about her, and it feels wrong hearing this from our enemy.
Crew’s body is ramrod straight beside me, and the anger rolling off him is palpable. Why does it feel like I’m missing something here?
I swallow past the bile in my throat and take a deep breath as I squeeze Crew’s fisted hand. “Just spit out whatever you’re trying to hint at, Caleb. We’ve had enough of your riddles.”
He turns his attention on me, and I barely catch myself from flinching at the evil staring back at me. I’ve spent my whole life surrounded by dangerous men, but that’s different than staring into the eyes of someone with no soul.
“I asked Crew to help me with a job back then. I was sick of not making any money at the docks and always stinking like the ocean, so I found an opportunity for the two of us running drugs for the Davenports. It wasn’t their main source of income at the time, just like it isn’t now, but they needed some more runners, some that the cops wouldn’t recognize. But when I approached Crew about it, he said no. He said he couldn’t do that to Kayla, not when she had to deal with that shit growing up. I tried to change his mind without such drastic action, but when it became clear he wasn’t going to budge while she was still breathing, I decided to take care of that little problem.”
I stare at him with surprise. Is he seriously telling us that he killed Bishop’s mother all those years ago? That he grew up without a mom because his uncle was money hungry and greedy?
I turn to look at Crew, who looks just as shocked as I am, but there’s anger simmering in the mismatched pools, and if we don’t get out of here soon, it’s likely he’s going to blow.
Bishop comes charging out of the restaurant, and I shake my head as subtly as I can, but he’s too far gone.
He tears his uncle from his seat, and despite them being almost the same height, Bishop has the upper hand. “What did you just say?” he growls through gritted teeth.
I shove myself to my feet, but it’s too late.
All hell is about to let loose.