Page 12 of In the Shadows

“Doesn’t he know he works for us?”

I chuckle as we step into the lobby, the warmth immediately surrounding us and taking the chill off. “It seems he needs to be reminded.”

“You’d think he’d know, seeing as he pays us every month for the privilege of running in our city.” Kaos shakes his head as we step into the elevator. Grumpy Kaos is always a source of amusement for the rest of us, especially Kovu, and it’s exactly what I need to ease the annoyance of this little fieldtrip.

“You’d think.” I chuckle, but there’s nothing funny about the way Davenport and the other families forget who’s in charge around here. It’s our city, and I won’t hesitate to remind every single one of these motherfuckers that they’d be best to remember that.

We ride the elevator in silence, all the way to the top floor. Sixty-seven goddamn levels. Like I said, ostentatious. When we reach the top, we step out into his living room, and I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes. This isn’t the first time I’ve been summoned here in the last decade since we took control of the city, but I swear he gets more vases every time I step foot into this penthouse.

“Gentlemen.” Charles greets us with a wide smile, but it’s fake like everything else the man does. He’s a snake in the grass, the monster lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike, but he forgets the company he keeps. “I’m so glad you were able to make it on such short notice.”

“Didn’t have much choice,” Kaos mutters.

“What is it we can do for you, Charles? It’s late,” I say bluntly. There’s no room for niceties at three in the morning, and although I’m the diplomatic one, there’s only so much diplomacy I can show in the early hours of the morning.

“Please, have a seat and join me for a drink.” He gestures toward the living area, where a large modular leather couch fills the room. It’s only Charles that lives here, but this fucking couch could seat the starting lineup of the Knicks and the Nets and still have room for a few of his staff.

“No, thank you,” I reply, crossing my arms across my chest. “As I’m sure you can appreciate, it’s late, and we’d like to get home.”

“Of course. I’ll jump right to the chase then.” He walks to the couch and returns a moment later with an envelope in his hand. “I appreciate your help in ensuring De Marco was properly punished for breaking the contract we signed nineteen years ago, but sadly, I need your assistance once more.”

Kaos tenses beside me, his anger palpable. He’s right, this motherfucker has forgotten who works for whom.

“Charles.” I interrupt him before he can continue. I don’t want to listen to another word of his bullshit. “I think perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding. We don’t work for you. In fact, in terms of the food chain in this city, you’re below us, and therefore, if anyone would be doing anyone else favors, it would be you doing them for us. Now, if you don’t mind, we must get back.”

Kaos and I turn toward the elevator. I’m fucking pissed I was dragged away from the girl for this, but at least we’ve said what we needed to say, and the next time this asshole asks for something, I’ll give Kovu full permission to do whatever the fuck he wants to the cunt.

“It’s about the De Marco girl,” he tells us, and for some reason I stop in my tracks. “Some of my guys roughed her up a bit before I could give them instructions, and the idiots assumed she was dead because her breathing was so shallow, but when the clean-up crew went to pick her up, she was nowhere to be found.”

My eyes snap up to meet Kaos’s. It couldn’t be…

“Do you have a photo of the girl?” he asks. “So we can keep an eye out for the body?”

I turn around in time to see Charles holding a photo out to us, and I snatch it from him before Kaos can. I stare down at the image for long moments, allowing myself to process what I’m looking at.

Our houseguest isn’t just some woman fleeing a bad situation.

She’s Camilla De Marco, and everything just got a whole lot more complicated.

CHAPTER TEN

KAOS

Ididn’t need to see the woman to know she was trouble. From the moment Kovu and I walked back in from slaughtering De Marco, the atmosphere was off, and when I found out we had a houseguest, I put it down to that. It’s been a long time since anyone outside the four of us has stayed at the compound, and if I had it my way, it would have stayed that way.

But now I understand it. She’s not just some damsel in distress. She’s the woman the whole city wants right now. Because as soon as her father drew his last breath, she became the heir to the De Marco family, and that’s territory every family in the city wants.

I pinch the bridge of my nose all the way home, a thumping headache bleeding through despite my attempts to calm down. I need to reign it in before we get back to the compound despite the way my body craves violence.

Bishop’s knuckles are white as we speed through the streets of New York. Even at this time of night, parts of the city are in gridlock. You’d think after so many years here we’d be used to it, but the way he slams his hand down on the horn every time we’re forced to slow down, he’s in no mood for the traffic.

“I can’t believe you brought Camilla fucking De Marco into our home base,” I growl. This is his fault, no matter which way you look at it. If he’d just minded his own business and left her where he found her, none of this would be happening, and we’d be enjoying a blissful night of silence, but of course that’s not the case.

“I obviously didn’t know it was her,” he snaps.

“Did you ask?”

“No, I didn’t fucking ask. She was groggy and disoriented when she woke up earlier, and she hadn’t woken up again by the time I had to leave. She literally said a handful of words to us. Was she really going to volunteer her full name to two scary looking strangers?”

---