Page 42 of From the Ashes

It doesn’t seem to matter how hard I try to stay away, I always seem to find myself wherever my little lamb is.

Today has been a particularly slow day, in fact, the whole week has been, which is stressing Crew the fuck out, but it’s just making me stir crazy.

At least if I had some fucker to torture for information, I’d be able to take my mind off the dark-haired beauty that takes up every waking thought as well as the few dreams I have that aren’t nightmares, but instead I’m left to get glimpses of her whenever I can.

Right now, for example, I find myself sitting at the same café she’s having a business lunch at. The old guy she’s chatting with keeps letting his gaze slip down her top when she leans forward, and every time it happens, I have to remind myself that I’m already in the doghouse for killing someone in her life, and I shouldn’t kill anyone else, especially not in broad daylight with this many witnesses.

Still tempting, though.

He excuses himself from the table to take a phone call, and I can’t help myself anymore. All week I’ve been following her, getting any glimpse I can of my little lamb, but I can’t fucking stand it anymore.

Maybe if she was sleeping at night, I’d feel more settled, but the fact I can’t even sneak into her room to watch her sleep doesn’t help settle the monster desperately pacing inside me.

I stalk across the outdoor patio of the café and take the old-timer’s seat.

Camilla’s gray eyes flick up to meet mine, and surprise tugs at her features right before frustration wrestles it out of the way. “What are you doing here, Kovu?”

“I needed to see you,” I tell her honestly. “Please come home, Cami. We miss you.”

She huffs out a sigh and crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her ample tits up until the swell peeks over the modest dip in her blouse. “I told you guys I needed time. Can’t you just give me this one thing when I ask for it? I’m being careful. I’m making sure my security detail is always nearby. I’ve even got a guy that sits in reception and reads the paper all day just in case something happens. I just need time.” Her eyes plead with me to understand, but I can’t understand anything that means she’s not with me.

“We need you home, Little Lamb.” Honesty bleeds into the words, and the edge of emotion in my tone is unfamiliar but strangely not unwelcome.

“And I need some time to decide if this is what I want.” She gestures between us. “The last few months have been overwhelming, and I haven’t had a choice in anything that’s happened. I need you to give me this choice, Kovu. I need you to let me make the decision to come back on my own.”

Something akin to dread settles over me as I realize there’s a very real possibility that she’ll decide not to come back, and I don’t even think I could blame her if she made that choice. I’d still throw her over my shoulder and lock her up if that was the only way I could have her, but I’d understand it nonetheless.

“I can’t let you go, Little Lamb,” I admit, reaching across the table to take her hand, but she pulls away before I can touch her.

“You might have to,” she whispers.

Tears glisten in her stormy gaze, and the sight does something to me that feels vastly unfamiliar. I caused these tears, but not because of pain or pleasure. This is emotional turmoil I’ve caused her, and I can’t stand the idea that she’s hurting because of me.

Her eyes flick to the road, where the man she’s having lunch with is talking on his phone. “You should go. Please give me time, Kovu.”

My need for her and my need to make her happy war against one another, but ultimately, I shove myself to my feet and step toward her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

“You’re mine, Little Lamb. Don’t ever forget it.”

Before she can respond, I move back to my table, drop a wad of cash beside the food I never touched, and leave without looking back.

If I look back, I won’t do as she’s asked, and I could lose her forever, something I’m not willing to risk.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CAMILLA

Itug on the long-sleeve silky dress I pulled on when I got home from work as I peer out the window at the nondescript building. It doesn’t look much like a club, there’s no signage or people lining up out the front, but maybe that’s because it’s early. There is a tall, well-built man standing in front of one of the doors, so I’m assuming that’s the entrance.

“I’ll park around the block. Just give me five minutes when you’re ready to head home,” Carl, the driver my father had for years and has been driving me around this week, tells me.

“Thanks, Carl.” I give him a tight smile as I climb from the car and tuck my clutch under my arm. My sky-high heels give me a confidence I don’t feel in this dress, but I decided when I was getting dressed that I wanted one normal night out with my friend. A night where I’m not a Mafia boss and I don’t have four alpha asshole men that are pretty much stalking me, and I don’t have multiple people trying to kill me. I just want one night where I can feel normal.

I glance down to check my plunging neckline is still in place before looking up just in time to find the bouncer looking me over, but not in a way that makes me uncomfortable. If anything, he’s assessing my body language, and I realize he must be really fucking good at his job if he can look at someone this thoroughly without making them uncomfortable.

“You Camilla?” he grunts out.

I nod. “Yeah, I am. I’m meeting Leighton,” I tell him as I fish around my bag for my fake ID, but he opens the door and ushers me inside before I can get ahold of it.

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