Page 88 of Theirs to Rule

“Bianca,” I hissed. This was hitting a new level of embarrassment. “Shut up.”

Bianca shrugged, her hands splayed. “Hey, if they can’t handle a few simple questions?—”

“The point is, you have no right to ask them anything. It’s my life, and I know what I’m doing, okay?”

“Really?” Bianca raised her eyebrows. “Just like you knew what you were doing in Italy with Ty? How did that work out for you?”

Wow, that was a low blow. And she wasn’t done yet. She turned her attention over to Dante, her eyes narrowed. “And what about you? Are you willing to risk your whole career over a fling?”

“It’s far from a fling, and I think you know that,” Dante replied, his voice low and even. “And I’d quit tomorrow if I had to choose between Camille and my job.”

Hearing that made my heart swell. Dante had already made it clear that, unlike Kage, he had no intention of going anywhere for the foreseeable future. But he also thought at some point I'd want to leave him. And when that time came, he'd let me go. If he truly cared for me, even loved me, why wouldn't he fix that? Or vow to never let me go, even if going was my idea.

“I’m just trying to look out for you, Cami.”

“And I appreciate it. But you need to let me live my own life. I need to make my own mistakes and learn from them. If you can’t be nice to Dante and Kage, then?—”

“I’ll be nice,” Bianca interrupted. “So long as they understand I’ll castrate them if they hurt you.” She hesitated, then stood while pulling me to my feet, too. She hugged me tight. "I love you, Cami."

I sighed, sinking into my sister's embrace. Things were still tense between us, but I remembered the look on her face when she'd been about to tell me why she'd gone MIA on me in California. I think in my heart I’ve always known it had nothing to do with some boy. Something had happened to change my sister. To damage her, when I'd always thought of her as indestructible. Even worse, it obviously had something to do with her looking into the missing CU kids. I needed her to know that just as she was always trying to protect me, I was here for her, too. "I love you, Bianca. Always. And when you're ready to talk about what really happened in California, we can talk. Really talk.”

Bianca squeezed me tighter, then pulled back. For a moment, she looked haunted. But then her expression cleared. She winked at me, then turned on her heel and strolled out of the café.

Dante

After leaving Camille, I pulled up to my house. Something felt off. At first, I thought it was just lingering tension from the meeting with Bianca, but then I spotted it. The front door, slightly ajar, was a clear sign that trouble had paid a visit in my absence. My gut tightened, a mix of anger and concern swirling as I killed the engine on my bike. The quiet of the neighborhood felt oppressive, like the calm before a storm.

Slipping the switchblade from my pocket, I flipped it open, the familiar click a small comfort as the metal glinted in the corner of my eye. I approached the door slowly, every sense on high alert. Whoever decided to break into my place had either a death wish or something damn important to look for.

Pushing the door open with the toe of my boot, I slipped inside, my eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. The silence of the house was unnerving, every small creak and whisper amplified. I moved quietly, the blade in my hand ready.

The living room looked untouched. No signs of a struggle or hurried search, which was odd. If someone broke in, what the hell were they looking for? I moved on, my footsteps muffled against the carpet.

Then Jane appeared, stepping out of my bedroom.

She was a mess. Her face was bruised and bloodied, both with new and old injuries. Her clothes hung off her tiny frame.She looked like she hadn’t eaten in weeks—and smelled like she hadn’t seen a bath in even longer. Despite that, her gaze was defiant as she looked back at me, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Jesus, Jane,” I muttered, doing my best to ignore the stench. “What happened to you?”

"I’ve been waiting for hours, Dante," she snapped back at me, tossing her hair over her shoulder and shaking her head. "Where have you been? I have shit I need to take care of."

I gritted my teeth. Her attitude was always like this. But I was too guilty about everything that had happened to tell her to get the fuck out.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

"You're not going to offer me a drink?" she asked.

"Looks like you’ve had enough of the hard stuff already," I fired back. Her jaw tightened. She knew I was right. She didn’t deny that she was using—she couldn’t, not when she was in this state. God knows what she was on right now.

How many times had she come crawling to me, telling me it was going to be the last time she touched this shit? I couldn’t even count. I should have turned her away a long time ago, but the guilt I harbored over what had happened to Rihanna kept me locked in place.

"I just need a little something to get me through till tomorrow.”

"You're not getting anything from me."

"I miss her so much, Dante. You don’t get it. This guy I’ve been buying from, Rick, he’s been having some trouble…"

That was code for her not being able to pay.

---