Chapter 18
Xander
Ispent the whole night watching her through the cameras on my phone. I managed to link the CCTV cameras of DL to it so I could see her. I couldn’t be there tonight while Jacques was there. He said he was going to keep an eye out in case Aiden showed up. Which caused a problem for me.
But I was watching. I watched her performance.
I saw how she looked for me with every turn, every fluid movement, her head whipping in every direction.
I watched her when she went into the dressing room after her performance—looking over her shoulder every now and then—and when she emerged in her jean shorts and a green bralette.
It did nothing to tame the possessiveness already present due to the fact she was dancing for everyone but me.
Then she served dirty criminals with those perky, full breasts on display.
I also watched how every man in that room had their eyes glued on her the entire performance, drool practically leaking out of their open mouths. And that pissed me off more than anything. Because, apparently, everything that circles back to Camila pisses me off.
The longer I think about her working at DL, the more I want to pull her out of there. None of those men in there are worthy of laying eyes on her perfect curves. On the way she pours her soul into her performances.
Not even me.
But I see her. I see that there’s something deeper. However, it was lacking tonight. Every movement was almost lazy—like she could think of better things to be doing. Or missing someone that should’ve been there, watching her.
Me.
Still, it didn’t take away from the hypnotising way that she moves.
To them, it’s just a sexy performance to get their fill of lust for the night, which they aren’t getting from their relationships at home.
Most of the men in there are mobsters, criminals, and drug dealers.
All their wives care about is their money and living comfortably, so I doubt they pay much attention to what their husbands are doing at night.
I would never do that to my her. If she were mine, she would never have to worry about where I am or who I’m with. She’d be right there beside me the entire time.
Call it delusion, but I’ve been around her enough times to know how her body reacts to me. I’m no fool. I know the effect that I have on her.
She was missing me tonight, too.
She didn’t reply to my text earlier. But I saw that she saw it. I couldn’t help the surge of frustration that shot through me.
And I haven’t heard from Jac, which means their conversation couldn’t have been about me.
I know the exact reason she ignored me—not that it gives her an excuse. And if I wasn’t trying to control myself around her, she’d be punished.
She might be mad at me over Penelope, but her thoughts couldn’t be further from the truth.
If only she knew how much time she spends living in my head rent-free.
I watched as the last patrons left the club, including Jac, from inside my McLaren outside our mansion as the strengthening wind swayed the car gently.
I was ready to pay a visit to her as soon as she left. To my surprise, she was there, helping the bar staff with cleaning. I was prepared to meet her outside her apartment, but this might be even better.
I’m speeding down the motorway to DL, the car reaching over a hundred miles per hour, the rain making it hard to see through the windscreen.
I can’t let Camila drive in this storm; it’s too dangerous.
Looks like she and I are going to have to spend the night inside DL.
A slow grin spreads over my face at the thought of having her all to myself. Where it’s not easy for her to get away from me. Where she can’t tell me to leave.
I wanted to be a patient man, but obsession has its limits. And after Penelope’s stunt yesterday, I’m planning on showing Camila she’s the only woman on my mind.
I pull into the car park, right next to her Audi.
Good girl.
I wanted to tell her about her Renault, but it could’ve fucked everything up. I don’t think I could handle what would’ve happened had I told her.
I want to tell her. I will eventually.
But how can I know that she won’t run? That she won’t leave me?
I need her to know that everything I do is for her. For her safety. To keep her safe.
I need her to understand that.
I grab my duffel bag from the passenger seat and lock the car behind me.
The rain between the car park and DL is pelting down heavily now, almost blurring out the entire back entrance of the club.
I tug my blazer over my head and take long strides towards the entrance.
The wind whips at my body, almost knocking me off balance.
The door shuts behind me, drowning out the sound of the storm.
I dump my soaked blazer on the floor along with the bag and enter the main room.
“Camila?” I call out, but it’s completely empty. The lights have been dimmed back down to the low glow of pink after cleaning.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket, opening the cameras.
I flick through every screen, but… nothing.
Until the last camera, right outside of the dressing room. And there she is. Pressed up against the wall with one of the security guards.
White-hot rage surges through me as I slam open the doors to the backstage area. I throw the phone behind me, not giving a shit about whether it smashes.
I storm through the winding hallways, finally coming up to the one Camila is in. My pulse elevates at the sight, and my muscles twitch with adrenaline as I watch the fucker reaching out towards her.
I lean against the wall, steadying myself and my thought process.
Because if I come any closer, I might just put a bullet through this fucker’s head without warning.
“Take one more step towards her, and you’ll be crawling out of here,” I threaten, and I almost don’t recognise my own voice.
His blonde head snaps towards me as he jumps back from Camila.
Jayden has always been afraid of me. So it’s no surprise that now he’ll act like nothing was happening.
I flick my gaze to Camila, who looks just as surprised as Jayden does. My heart skips a beat as her green eyes assess me. I can’t see the colour of them in this light, but I’ve memorised every shade in those irises.
Her knees are shaking, and she's slowly inching away from Jayden.
My head turns dizzy with fury. I’d love nothing more than to snap the legs off this asshole in front of her and show her just how far I’m willing to go for her. But that would scare her off.
No one would know Jayden is missing. The cameras are easy to wipe.
But I’m keeping it all together for her.
I take a deep mental breath as I look at her, reminding myself who this restraint is for. Ignoring that obsessive voice in my head.
See? No need for medication. I can control it.
“I’m sorry, Mr Warren,” Jayden murmurs, dipping his head low and following the silent command my presence alone gives him.
He nears me, but before he can get past, I grip his arm firmly, halting him in place. Camila’s breath catches at the motion, but I keep my eyes locked on hers, attempting to mentally communicate that she’s safe.
I yank Jayden closer to me. I don’t try to be quiet; I want her to hear this. I need her to know the type of man that I am—that there are no bounds to the lengths I’d go to for her.
“If I ever see you talking to Camila again, I will rip your fucking tongue out of your mouth, do you understand me?”
He starts trembling as he frantically nods his head.
“Now go fucking home. I don’t want to see your face here tomorrow, either.”
I give his arm one more hard squeeze before letting go and hearing his fast footsteps fade out.
The storm outside.
The thump of the door.
Then silence.
Just me and her.
“Hello, Angel,” I drawl, watching as her chest rises and falls with every breath in that pathetic scrap of material.
I push off the wall, taking slow steps towards her. She’s not scared. No. I know what fear feels like. I’ve threatened enough people to know it.
She’s aroused. It’s practically dripping off her at the speed of the rain outside. But I don’t think she’s quite aware of that.
Her breaths come in quick and shallow as I approach.
Not too close. I don’t know what happened here in the short space of time it took me to get to her.
I should’ve been fucking quicker.
She watches me with those wide, sparkling eyes, flicking between my own with curiosity. But she doesn’t step back. She meets my stance.
Standing up taller, she folds her arms across her chest. “What are you doing here?”
My mouth curls up on one side.
There she is.
That fiery attitude I’ve come to crave, along with every bit of her.
She’s unshakeable.
“A drink?” I offer, extending my arm in the direction of the lounge upstairs.
She scoffs. “No, thanks. I have to get home. I’m sure you have someone you need to get back to, too,” she spits the words at me, attempting to get around, but I follow the direction she steps in, ending up directly in front of her again.
Her head snaps up. She’s much smaller than me without her heels, yet, somehow, she still manages to look taller.
Her face is painted with a scowl of jealousy. She can pretend all she likes that she doesn’t care. But I bet she’d be singing a different story if I pinned her up against this wall and fucked the truth out of her.
Fuck.
I swallow harshly, not breaking our staredown. “There’s a storm outside. You’re not going anywhere.”
Her eyebrows pull in, and her head jerks back. “Excuse me?” She places the back of her palm on my arm and attempts to push me to the side. “Get the fuck out of my way, Xander.”
If she says my name one more time, I swear to the high heavens my restraint will break, and I’ll follow through on every depraved thought I’ve had of her.
I step in front of her again, caging her in with my arms in the corner of the hallway, bringing my face down and forcing her to look up at me. “You’re not going anywhere. Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Her chest rises faster again, but her hips lean towards me. I trace my eyes down her face and to her mouth.
Her tongue darts out, and she wets her lips.
My body starts shaking. Every single chain on each of my limbs pulls taut, and I might just snap.
Having her this close to me…
It’s not fucking fair.
“Well, you don’t. Thank you for saving me, Prince Charming, but I’m sure your girlfriend is waiting at home for you,” she says, tone laced with venom, eyes dipping to my lips.
My cock is so fucking hard that I’m afraid it’s going to rip through my jeans if I don’t get my hands on her in the next few seconds.
But I’m also so angry at the mention of Penelope that my hand connects with her throat before I can even think about what I’m doing.
Her breath hitches at the contact, and her hips press into me, meeting my hard erection.
Bringing my face towards her ear, I nip on her earlobe, the coconut scent of her shampoo caressing my senses.
“Girlfriend?” I growl. “You’re mistaken, Angel.
The only woman ever on my mind is you. It’s always you.
Fuck. You have no idea how much restraint it's taking me not to devour you right now.”
She swallows beneath my hand.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was meant to be a passing fascination with a woman who dances like she is the music.
But her movements play on my mind on a constant loop.
I think about her when I’m supposed to be sleeping.
I think about how she would sound if I touched her. When she comes apart in my arms.
I shouldn’t want her like this. I shouldn’t think about her like this. But obsession doesn’t ask for permission. And I’m done waiting.