Page 69 of In the Shadows

So far, there’s been nothing. His routine is the same as it always is.

From ten to one, he’s at his strip club, and most of that time is spent sitting in his private booth in the center of the room with desperate women pawing all over him.

Between one and three, he’s doing rounds of his corners. Checking his men are where they’re meant to be and that no one else is encroaching on his territory.

And between three and six, he visits his various other businesses and clubs around the city. Every night club I have to step foot in makes my fucking skin crawl, but maybe that’s because I know there’s somewhere I would kill to be instead of following him.

I spend my days sleeping in Camilla’s bed, sometimes coaxing her to have a nap with me, and other times alone while one of the others takes her to another part of the complex.

I fucking hate it. But this is my fault, and I have to deal with the consequences of my actions.

We have our tech guy trying to retrieve information from the phone the guy Camilla killed had on him, but it’s so encrypted that even our best can’t crack it. Which is a problem.

The more time that passes where we think Davenport knows where she is but can’t confirm it, the more time he has to plot his next moves.

I called Noah the day after it happened to keep his ear to the ground and let me know if Davenport calls any meetings of the five families, but so far there’s been radio silence, and I don’t like it.

I don’t like any of it.

I shove myself up and stalk across the room to where my suit is hanging. Camilla must have brought it in for me when she crawled into bed and curled up against me an hour ago, but the others are noticeably absent.

I dress quickly and press a kiss to Camilla’s forehead, but all too soon, I’m on my way to the garage.

As soon as I slip into the soft leather seats of my Bentley, I shoot a text into the group chat and start the engine.

Bishop: On my way out. One of you needs to stay with Cami.

Kaos: Why?

Kovu: She’s been having nightmares. It seems like having one of us close keeps them at bay.

Crew: Why the fuck didn’t you tell us she’s having nightmares?

I rub my hand down my face and sigh. You’d think we’ve never been in the same fucking room as a woman the way we carry on some days.

Bishop: Because we’re the ones that normally stay with her overnight. Didn’t seem relevant.

Kaos: Anything about the princess is relevant.

Kovu: Don’t pretend to give a shit about her now just because you tasted how fucking sweet she is.

Crew: Enough.

Crew: In the future, anything about Camilla needs to be communicated. I don’t give a fuck if she just has a headache, we all need to know about it.

Bishop: *Thumbs-up emoji*

Not waiting for their responses, I peel out of the garage and toward Sally’s. A terrible name for a strip club, but it’s one of the busiest in the city, so I suppose I’m the only one who has an issue with it.

I rub my tired eyes and flick my gaze to my phone.

Four in the morning.

Fuck. Every night I do this feels longer than the last, but tonight feels especially painful.

I’m camped outside one of Davenport’s nightclubs, watching the comings and goings as drunk partygoers stumble out the front door.

How many nights am I going to do this?

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