Page 50 of In the Shadows

She doesn’t bother knocking before walking straight into the largest office we have.

“Oh good, you’ve learned the others’ bad habits already,” Crew says, not bothering to look up from his computer screen.

“I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here,” she snaps, walking straight to the opposite corner from the door and sinking down into the leather couch.

Crew rubs his hand down his face and turns to me. “You need anything from me?”

“Nope. Just don’t kill her while we’re out.” It’s only half a joke. My dad has never been known for his patience, and if there’s anyone who knows how to push buttons, it’s the woman sitting in the corner looking anywhere but at us.

“I’ll try not to,” he deadpans. “You three looked cozy last night.”

“Watching on the cameras again rather than just coming to see her?” I ask quietly, a smug smile playing on my lips.

He glares at me but doesn’t bother to reply. I caught him last week with the camera to her bedroom open in the corner of his screen, a permanent fixture, if I had to hazard a guess.

I shake my head and cross the room to where Camilla is toying with her hands in her lap. I drop into a crouch and tip her chin up so she’s forced to look at me. “Be good. I’ll be back later.”

Before she can snap back at me, I lean forward and press my lips to hers in a gentle caress that’s over too soon. “I’ll see you later.”

I don’t give myself a chance to change my mind about leaving her with my idiot father as I stride out of the room, giving him a pointed look on my way out.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CAMILLA

Iyawn and stretch out across the comfortable leather couch in the corner of Crew’s office.

We’ve been in complete silence since Bishop marched me in here an hour ago, and I wouldn’t describe it as anything other than tense.

I’m still trying to understand why I’m still here. Despite Bishop and Kovu’s beliefs, I’m no longer injured. A couple of partially healed broken ribs and a broken wrist are hardly going to stop me from taking my role as the head of the De Marco family, and every day that passes makes me think they’re readying me to be returned to Charles.

I stare down at the copy of Wuthering Heights that I swiped off the shelf beside me, but not even old-world England can distract me from the elephant in the room. Or rather, the six-foot-three asshole in a suit behind the desk. His presence is imposing even from here, and every now and then I feel his eyes burning into me, assessing me, waiting for me to fuck up so he has a reason to hand me over.

I have yet to make sense of him kissing me, though. It didn’t make sense the other day in the kitchen, and it certainly didn’t make sense when I was in the middle of yelling at him for being an insensitive dick.

Movement on the other side of the room catches my attention, but I don’t look up from my book. When I first came in, I spent some time looking around, admiring the walls of books in a library only rivaled by the one at the De Marco estate, but the imposing desk in the center of the room only seems to make it seem like a James Bond movie. All Crew’s missing is a white cat, and it would be perfect.

The thought has a smirk tipping up the corners of my lips. The idea of any of these men with a cat is comical as hell.

“Something funny, Little Menace?” Crew asks, startling me.

I look up over the top of my book and find him standing just a few feet away, at the end of the couch. “Just the book,” I lie.

He glances at the title and gives me a knowing look. He knows damn well there’s nothing funny about this heart-wrenching story of lost love, but surprisingly, he doesn’t call me out.

I close the book and place it down on the table in front of me, looking anywhere but at him. Crew is one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met, along with the other three also living under this roof, and my limited experience with the opposite sex makes it hard for me to know what to do around him.

“Here.” He holds out a folded piece of paper, his face neutral.

“What’s this?” I ask as I take it from him.

“An alternative.” He lowers himself onto the couch beside me, lifting my feet easily into his lap as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and I’m too stunned to fight him on it. “I shouldn’t have assumed and should have been more sensitive to your family history. I apologize.”

I stare at him for a moment, my brows pinching together in confusion. A man like Crew Black doesn’t just apologize to someone, certainly not when that someone is causing him all kinds of headaches.

I unfold the piece of paper and read the contents.

Copper IUD. A non-hormonal birth control.

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