Page 2 of In the Shadows

I turn back to my father and nod before I’ve thought it through. “He’s going to come for you,” I whisper.

“Let him.”

CHAPTER ONE

CAMILLA

Am I a coward for running? For abandoning my father to face the wrath of this decision? But what choice do I have? If I don’t run, I’ll be forced to marry a man I don’t love, someone who will not hesitate to hurt me if I step out of line, and that’s not a life I wanted for myself, and clearly, it’s not one my father wants for me either.

I couldn’t take any guards with me when I slipped out of my family home, my father and Chloe both watching as I carried my heavy luggage across the back lawn of our upstate New York home. We have one in the city too, but this one is where I have the most memories of my mother, and the one I’ll miss most as I flee.

The cab Chloe called for me is waiting at the curb behind our back fence, and the driver helps me lift my bag into the trunk. I thank him as I slide into the back of the car and let out a sigh. I don’t know if I’m making the right decision. I don’t know if leaving is the right thing to do. All I know is, if I don’t get out of New York today, trying to run is only going to make my future even more bleak.

“Where to?” the driver asks as his gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror.

“JFK,” I say quickly. The ticket in the envelope is for a flight leaving in just a few hours, so I’m already cutting it close, but I almost wonder if that’s a good thing. Staying still in one place for too long could mean Charles and his men find me if they get wind of our plan.

I pull the ticket out and press my eyes closed. Rome first, and then I’m not sure where I’ll go. Our network extends across the globe, but so does Charles’s. I’ve always wanted to live in the French countryside, so maybe I’ll head there first, regroup, and make a plan. But the reality is, I’ll live the rest of my life on the run. I won’t be safe anywhere. Not while Charles Davenport is alive.

I stare at the piece of card in my hand for so long the letters blur together, and even then I can’t tear my eyes away from it. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone, and now I won’t get the opportunity. I never had time for friends as such, but there were people in school I liked, people who might worry about me if I disappeared off the face of the earth. But there’s not much I can do about that now.

The car comes to a halt, and I finally drag my attention away from the ticket to see we’re in the middle of the city, parked just inside an alley. My eyes snap up to the driver, whose sinister smile tells me everything I need to know.

It’s a trap, and I walked right into it.

Before I can consider running, my door swings open, and large arms reach in to grab me. I scramble to the other side of the cab, only to tumble out the open door and hit the concrete with a heavy thump.

Pain rushes through my body, and I let out a cry of pain. Even after all the training I did with my father, all the pain I was forced to endure to prepare me to take over the family legacy, the shock still gets the better of me for just a second.

I push myself through the pain and up onto my feet, only for a pair of large arms to wrap around my torso and tug me back into a hard body. This can’t be happening. I can’t allow this to happen.

“Get the fuck off me!” I scream as I kick out at nothing. I just need the leverage. If I can get the leverage, I can get away, and if I can get away, there’s still a chance I can escape with my life and freedom. Another man approaches me, his beady brown eyes turn darker with each step he takes toward me.

Panic threatens to overwhelm me, and I know if that happens, there won’t be any chance to escape. I need to remain calm if I’m going to outsmart and outrun these two assholes.

I’ve been doing self-defense training my whole fucking life. I could disarm a man when I was seven, knock one out when I was ten, and by the time I was twelve, I could shoot a gun better than most of the people who worked for my father. I’m not a wallflower, but I want these men to think that’s exactly what I am. I want them to underestimate me just like every other man has.

I look the man approaching me dead in the eye, showing him I’m not afraid of him. The other man still has his arms wrapped around me like a vice, but now that I’ve stopped struggling, he’s beginning to relax, and that’s the worst thing he could do.

“What do you want?” I train my voice to sound as scared as I can. It’s not hard seeing as I’m fucking terrified, but for men like this, it’s all about the power they hold over you, and making that seem greater than it really is is step one of my escape plan. If you can even call it that. I’m kind of making it up as I go.

“Where are you going, Camilla?” My name rolls off his vile tongue, and despite him being a few feet away, I get a whiff of nicotine on his breath. His dark hair is thinning, and he wears it slicked back. I haven’t gotten a good look at the other guy, but by the way his hands wander up my ribs toward my tits, I don’t need to look at him to know I fucking hate him.

“On a girls’ trip,” I blurt out. “My friends and I are going to Italy for my birthday. My daddy’s been so busy recently, I didn’t want to bother him with throwing a big party.” The lie slips from my lips so naturally it should concern me, but right now, my life depends on my ability to manipulate these men.

The one behind me chuckles, his warm breath whispers across my neck, and the foul stench lingers. I can only assume they work for Charles, but Jesus, could he not have hired some muscle that valued personal hygiene? “You think we’re going to believe that, De Marco?” The hatred in his voice disarms me. I’ve never met this man, but he seems to despise me. It is my birthday, so the excuse I gave is entirely plausible, but he doesn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth.

“Please, I don’t understand—” I don’t finish my sentence because a large fist slams into my cheek, sending agony through my entire face. A scream tears from my throat despite my best efforts to swallow it down. So much for not showing any weakness.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls. “I don’t give a fuck what you do and don’t understand. No one fucks with Charles Davenport and walks away.”

Blood drains from my cheeks, and even without looking in the mirror, I know I’m white as a ghost. Are they going to kill me? I was so worried about the prospect of a miserable existence that I never stopped to consider I might die if they caught me.

It’s only when the one behind me starts chuckling that I realize I’ve stopped kicking. In fact, I’ve stopped fighting all together. “That has her cooperating.”

“You don’t have to do this.” I rush the words out before they can strike me again. The pain in my face is excruciating, but I can’t allow it to weaken my fight. I’m not dying today. And I’m definitely not giving my life away to Charles fucking Davenport. “My father can pay you. You don’t have to hurt me.”

The men look at one another over my shoulder, and for a split second, I have hope that maybe, just maybe, they’re buying into it. But then they start laughing. “Your daddy is dead,” the one behind me whispers against the shell of my ear. “No one double crosses a Davenport, and your father trying to break their deal has a death sentence attached to it.”

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