Page 20 of In the Shadows

Bishop tenses ever so slightly, but no one in this room besides myself would ever notice the movement. He’s going to have to learn to reign it in if she’s going to stay with us, especially in the short term while we work out how to navigate things with her in our lives. That is, if she stays with us, and that’s a very big if.

“What about it?” I ask.

“Now that it’s leaderless, I would like to discuss making moves to take over his operation.”

I chuckle, the sound deep and menacing. “And why would you be taking over the De Marco territory?”

A look of shock tugs at his usually neutral features. I’m not sure what he expected this conversation to look like, but I have a feeling this isn’t it. “John broke our contract and died as a result. That means his territory defaults to me.”

Bishop scoffs, his head shaking slowly. “That’s not how this works at all, Davenport. You should know that. The territories are set out the way they are for a reason, and we’ve always kept them the same for that same reason. Why the fuck would we change it now?”

The audacity of this man never ceases to astound me. If I could have gotten us out of doing his dirty work, of allowing him to use us as glorified hitmen for hire, I would have, but it’s part of our role within the city, and we didn’t have a choice unless we wanted the other families to start to question our leadership.

Confusion morphs into anger as his dark eyes turn to black. “I should be married to Camilla De Marco by now, and that territory would be mine by marriage.” His voice raises, and I don’t miss the way Bishop’s hand touches his gun tucked into his waistband at the sound of her name on his lips, but his movement is so stealthy, Charles’s gaze doesn’t move from me, even for a second.

“But you haven’t married her, and therefore you have no claim on her inheritance, territory included.” I shrug. “Until she’s able to be located, her uncle and cousin will serve as wards of the territory, and once she’s found, she will take her place as head of the De Marco family.”

“I made a deal with De Marco for her hand in marriage!” he shouts.

“And that deal died with him,” I say calmly. “If and when Camilla De Marco is found, she will have a choice if she wants to marry you or not, and while I’ve never met the girl, I doubt she wants to marry someone who traded her life before she even drew her first breath.”

Deathly silence falls upon the room, the only sound is the faint music in the room beside the one we’re in. He thought he was coming here with a checkmate. He thought we were going to hand over the keys to the kingdom, but he was kidding himself. If we can avoid it, we’ll never allow any of the families to take over territory that doesn’t belong to them, because as soon as they do, our position is questioned, and we can’t have that.

Bishop stands from his seat slowly, and he buttons his suit jacket. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have other business to attend to.”

The sound that rises from Charles’s chest is anything but human. “You haven’t heard the last of this!”

“Oh, but we have, Davenport.” I slam both hands down on the table in front of me. The wood vibrates under the force, but I don’t tear my eyes from his. “You forget your place in this city. Stay in your lane, or I assure you we will be knocking on your door.”

Without another word, Bishop and I move toward the door. We don’t stop walking until we pass the valet the ticket. My son is vibrating with anger, his hands squeezed into fists at his sides. The things Davenport said about Camilla have gotten under his skin, and we just have to hope like hell that he didn’t notice how wound up he was when the girl’s name rolled off his vile tongue.

If he finds out we have her in our compound, we’re in real danger of having our leadership questioned, and that’s the last thing we need right now.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

KOVU

The fight club is my sanctuary. It’s where I feel most at home, where the blood and violence soothe my aching soul, and it’s where I get to run the show. We have an assortment of businesses across the city. Some legal, some not so much, but this is the only one I have any interest in, and the one I built from the ground up.

It’s hardly a surprise that a city like New York is so full of sin and darkness, but fight nights are like nothing else the city has to offer. Sadly, I’m only here tonight to check the tapes. There’s been some weird shit going on here recently. Things are going missing, the back room where we keep files was broken into, and there have been an assortment of well-timed fights outside the ring. It’s all too suspicious for me to ignore, but I haven’t brought myself to tell the others yet. I don’t want them to think I can’t take care of this myself, because I can. I just have to figure out what the fuck is going on first.

I stride through the old warehouse down by the docks and look around the empty space. During the week, it’s quiet here, usually only a few small fights and some of the guys training, but tonight it’s eerie.

I flick lights on as I go, the only sound is my heavy boots on the concrete below my feet. I’ve been here alone hundreds of times over the last few years, but I’ve never felt like I was being watched.

I check the gun in the waistband of my ripped jeans, a force of habit when you’ve spent so many years looking over your shoulder. We all do it when we’re outside the compound, like we’re anticipating an attack at any moment.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I ignore it. I can’t afford to lose my focus right now. Years ago, I would have thought I was just allowing my paranoia to get the better of me.

When Crew found me, I was…broken. The things I’d seen, the way I’d grown up, it made me violent and terrified, not a combination anyone wants to be around. I would wake up in the middle of the night in our shitty old one-bedroom apartment on the mattress a few feet from Bishop’s and think he was going to kill me. He woke up more than once to my hands around his throat, choking the life from him because the voice in my head insisted he was a threat.

But in time, I learned that these people were the family I never knew I needed, and even my subconscious mind grew to understand that. Paranoia still plagues me at times, but this doesn’t feel like that. This feels like I’m being watched, and with all the other weird shit going on here, I’m willing to trust the feeling.

The phone starts vibrating again, and I chance another look around before tugging it from my pocket and rolling my eyes. Kaos.

“I assume the little lamb is driving you crazy?” I smirk. I hate that I’m not there with her, but at least they’re spending some time together. I need them to get along, because I don’t think I can let her go, and I don’t think Bishop can either. We’ve grown attached in the last few days, and the idea of sending her to a life of misery with Davenport makes the monster cooped up inside me beg to be unleashed.

“You need to get back here, I can’t deal with her.” His voice is cold, but there’s something there, something I haven’t heard in a long time, and something he’s trying to hide from me. But he should know I see through his bullshit just the same way he sees through mine.

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