Chapter 35
Camila
If I had doubts, they’re long gone now.
That’s the lengths he’ll go to for me. He’s proved it.
There are no bounds to how far those stretch.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
I’m not complaining about leaving. I don’t fit into that scene.
I felt so out of place, even knowing I was surrounded by criminals.
What Luke did was on a smaller scale than these people.
I lived in a trap house. Run down, stacked with drugs, filled with bad people.
Xander… he’s got a whole mansion. He donates to charity.
My heart is still racing from the events mere seconds ago. But I feel dumbstruck that he would do this. A trepidatious euphoria. It has me questioning my own moral compass.
These people… they’re not your typical criminals.
They clearly live their life in luxury—something that I’m not used to, something that I wasn’t born for.
And when this all blows over, mine and Xander’s time will be over.
He’ll find someone in another rich family; they’ll join together and make themselves richer. That’s how it all works, right?
A nauseous feeling settles in me at that thought.
“There’s someone we need to meet. Someone that could help us track Luke down,” Jac replies.
And there goes even more nausea.
Xander holds my hand through the white halls. We pass Penelope talking to a couple of guests, who stares longingly at Xander like he might notice her.
He doesn’t.
A sudden urge to throttle her inundates me.
Xander pulls the door open to his office, and we all follow him inside. There, in the middle of the room, is a woman lounging in his leather chair, her feet up on the black glass desk.
The click of a gun pulls my attention to the other person in the room.
My eyes widen as they land on the police officer who was at DL when it was searched.
Xander slides in front of me, arm stretched out firmly holding the gun, pointed right at the officer with the closely shaved brown hair and tattoos snaking up his neck.
He smiles at Xander, showing all his teeth. My gut drops when he slowly pulls his gun out and points it back at Xander.
Jacques slides up beside me, hand in his pocket, but I don’t see the outline of a gun.
Rather, a sharp point of a knife a few inches down from his pocket.
He looks more casual than anyone else in this room.
Ezra and another guard that I don’t know the name of—I assume Daniel, who Xander mentioned earlier—also ready their guns.
“What the fuck is this?” Xander growls, focusing his gaze on the gorgeous woman sitting at his desk.
She tuts and unfolds her legs, standing up dressed in black jeans and a tight tank top, showing off all her rounded curves.
“Put your toys away, children. We’re not here to cause trouble.” Her voice is deep, sexy, and feminine, with a very slight twang of an Italian accent.
No one moves. Everyone is locked in a staredown.
“Tell your pet to put his gun down first,” Xander says, his tone low and dangerous. It sends shivers down my spine.
The officer unlocks the safety on his gun, glaring at Xander. “What did you call me?” he asks in a deep, rich voice, with a similar accent to Jacques.
If I didn’t have four men defending me, I would be running for the hills at that tone.
“Axel,” the woman hisses, and Axel immediately pockets his gun.
She throws a pointed look at Xander, but he makes no attempt to move.
She tuts again, rounding his desk and leaning against it with folded arms. She’s much closer to us now, standing right in front of Xander.
Not an ounce of fear manifests on her face.
And that, I kind of admire. I wish I had the strength to be so desensitised to danger.
But the truth is, for me it’s all a mask.
I feel fear the same way any other person would, and that’s the one thing I hate the most. The way she carries herself screams powerful.
Xander gives her his attention but keeps his gun fixed on Axel.
“Put your fucking gun down,” Axel warns from the corner, his gun making an appearance once more. He starts taking slow steps towards Xander. “If you harm a single hair on her head, I won’t hesitate to blow your plaything’s head off.”
A deafening sound rings out in the room.
I flinch, covering my ears and squeezing my eyes shut.
A burning smell fills my nose as I peel open my eyes and see a small hole in the wall next to Axel’s head. The rage radiating off Xander is palpable.
My heart skips as I gauge Axel’s reaction. Weirdly, my body is gearing up to jump in front of Xander’s should he attempt to harm him. Something similar to protectiveness.
It feels like I literally have no control over the movement.
The woman’s eyes flick over to me at my subtle movement, and her mouth quirks up in a grin.
Xander’s nostrils flare, and he’s gripping the gun so tight his knuckles have turned white.
“Xander,” I whisper and place a hand on his arm, attempting to guide it down. My gaze is fastened on Axel’s, whose chest heaves as equally as Xander’s.
“The same goes for her,” Xander says, voice tight, and he winds his arm around my waist, pulling me closer.
Axel dips his head—a mutual understanding.
Glancing over at the woman, her face is a mask of annoyance as she glares at everyone in the room.
“Everyone, put your goddamn guns down.” Her voice is calm. “Axel, sit. There’s too much fucking testosterone in the room.”
I don’t know who this woman is, but I’d rather no one die tonight, so I grip Xander’s elbow and pull it down in one rough pull. His arm comes down, but I can hear his noisy exhales.
“Talk. And make it quick,” Jacques says, jerking his chin towards her.
“Who the hell are you?” Xander presses.
“Only the woman that’s been supplying your drugs for the past eight years,” she grins. Axel folds his arms over his chest, coming to sit on the desk next to her.
“No the fuck you ain’t,” Jac grouses in disbelief, throwing himself onto the small, black sofa next to a bookcase.
I wish I knew what in the shit was happening right now.
“This whole time?” Xander muses.
“So, imagine my surprise when my men turn up dead on a supply ship with an empty container.”
“Fuck,” Jacques curses.
“The Turkish guys.” Xander directs his statement toward Jac, who nods his head up and down slowly.
Xander rounds the desk, flopping into his chair. He stretches his arm out towards me, and like some kind of obedient dog, I walk over to him and take his hand. He pulls me into his lap as everyone in the room watches. His hand rests on top of my thigh as he leans on his other elbow.
This is a show. He wants this woman to know who’s still in control here.
But, despite myself, I’m willing to act this out with him.
“But who would—” Jac starts, quickly cut off by this woman whose name I still don’t know.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“What do you know about Aidan Burns?” Xander asks.
“Aidan Burns?” Her face scrunches in confusion. “I don’t know an Aidan Burns. Only an Aidan Deller.”
Jacques runs his hand through his hair, throwing his head back and starting to pace around the room. “Motherfucker played us.”
“Who?” I ask.
Her head whips towards me, that smirk playing on her face again. “So she speaks.”
Xander’s hold tightens on me. His jaw clenches and unclenches as if he’s about to say something, but I rest my hand on his thigh, silently asking him to hold it in. She catches sight of it and makes a quick hum inside her throat.
“Aidan. The man that died tied to the pole,” Xander grits out, his face laser-focused on the desk.
My face pales as I look at her.
Who is this woman?
As if reading my thoughts, she speaks. “Nova Bianchi. Italian mafia.”
Jacques recoils. “Antonio Bianchi’s daughter?”
She huffs out a laugh. “Head of the Italian mafia. My father’s been dead for a long, long time.” Her face remains hard as she says it, but I catch the flash of sadness in her eyes.
“Everyone thinks he’s still alive. And no one has seen you for years,” Xander says.
“And let it remain that way.” She shakes her head.
“Anyway, the reason I’m here is because there’s someone out there after my people.
They’re growing quickly. And if my suspicions are correct, the Dellers have something to do with it.
All the runners you had over in Kensington and Chelsea?
They were theirs. The Dellers played you well.
I’ve been watching you, waiting to see if you’d notice, but you’ve been…
”—she throws a quick glance my way—“preoccupied. You could’ve had them dead weeks ago.
I was hoping you’d wipe them out. Little bitches are trying to weave their way into my empire. ”
Axel takes a spot next to Ezra and Daniel by the wall, who both seem relaxed but vigilant. He sits in the middle of them both, legs spread wide. Nova rolls her eyes and focuses her attention back on Xander and Jacques.
“And let me guess, your lapdog over there reported back to you about Aidan?” Xander narrows his eyes on her.
She smiles. “I have eyes everywhere, Mr Warren.”
“So what the fuck do you want from us?” Jacques asks, coming to lean on Xander’s chair.
Nova slips off the desk, standing and facing us.
“You need help. They’re trying to take you and everyone else out.
They’re working to be the ‘big bad’, and they’re coming for you first.” She points a short acrylic-nailed finger at Xander, who stiffens beneath me.
“They might’ve killed my men and stolen my supplies, but they’ve poached your men.
It's only a matter of time before they start to take you down. You did the right thing closing Diamond Lounge and killing Jayden.”
I go ramrod straight.
They killed Jayden?
I glance at them, but Xander’s face reveals nothing. Only a slight smirk plays on his lips.
“The answer is no,” Jacques blurts out, and Nova whips her face towards him, as does Xander.
“Jac,” Xander snaps. Jacques narrows his eyes at Xander, nostrils flaring.