Page 13 of Reign

I don’t need permission either.

Seven

Libby/Daniella/Isabel

SHORTLY AFTER CAS AND I return to the other women and I’ve made my point, Cas’s phone rings with Eye of the Tiger, letting him know Mateo is calling. Knowing he’d better take it, he steps away but I know he’s still paying attention to our group. Camila has returned and struck up a conversation with Joelle. She seems relaxed and watching her interact so casually reminds me of her humanity and a small pang of guilt courses through me. Because of our time together in Venezuela, I haven’t had the mental real estate to try and imagine any of this from her perspective. I’m still not sure I can or want to, but this is the first time I’ve looked at her and seen another grown, lonely woman who has played the role of a pawn her whole life.

I’m not a fan of the idea that Camila and I have more in common than our love for Cas. It’s easier to hate her when I think we are nothing alike.

While Cas is away answering his phone, Max takes a seat next to me on the outdoor couch. Although there are three separate cushions, he sits so close to me that his thigh is touching mine. Casually, he drapes an arm over the back of the couch behind me.

Before I can react, I’m shocked into silence when Camila is the one who pipes up. “If you value your arm at all, I suggest removing it before he gets back,” she says calmly like she’s just passing along helpful tips for grilling meat. She plucks a cucumber off her plate and pops it into her mouth, never looking at Max once.

Max matches her calm attitude when he replies, “He’d do well to remember he’s at my house, and this is my party and my couch.”

“And that’smywife you’re rubbing up against.”

By the time he starts speaking, he already has Max’s elbow bent at an odd angle and is close to dislocating the joint. “Let me make it clear that I don’t give a fuckwhosehouse she’s at or whose couch she’s on. No one fucking touches her. If you think I’m built like this just so I wear a suit well, then you’re sorely mistaken. Nothing would make me happier than to demonstrate one of my favorite uses for the bulk beneath this jacket.” To emphasize his point, he cranks on Max’s arm a little more, not even straining with the easy effort.

I can tell Max is fighting it but finally a grimace of pain paints his features and he grits out through his teeth, “My apologies.”

Several guests are starting to look our way so Cas lets go but doesn’t move until Max gets up from the couch, cradling his arm as Victoria rushes over. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Please forgive him. He imagines himself such a charmer.” Max throws her a look of disdain and daggers before he saunters off trying to reclaim some of his dignity. Victoria continues her explanation, “He’s from a small village where everyone knows everyone and the level of familiarity between them was much higher there than in the States.”

While Max gets scooped up by another group of guests, Cas slides into the seat Max just vacated. He sticks his legs out and crosses them at the ankles, his right arm around my shoulders. He appears relaxed but I can feel that he’s wound tighter than a banjo string. He’s looking around, daring someone to start something.

There is always a dangerous current humming just below his surface.

Seeing my way in with Victoria, I wave a hand toward her and try to set her at ease. “No worries, really. Cas and the extra testosterone, remember?” I say jokingly, even as I feel Cas shift beside me and my own skin is still crawling from the contact with Max. “His village sounds quaint. Where’s he from?”

“Max is from a small town outside of,” she drops her voice to a whisper and casts a furtive glance at the other guests, “Moscow. Given today’s current climate, we don’t really broadcast that.”

Bingo.

Not at all what I thought she was going to say though, given Max’s appearance. I guess that’s what I get for judging a book by its cover.

“My lips are sealed,” I say to reassure her and keep her talking. I’ve learned from watching Cas that you have to give a little to get a little so I open up more in an effort to get her to do the same. “That must be hard. Is he able to keep in touch with his family? Camila, Casandro, and I pretty much had to write ours off if we wanted to make it work. My father can be a bit… ruthless at times.”

Victoria’s eyes snap back to mine while I casually sip my drink, keeping my eyes on hers, painting a picture of total relaxation. Two women just chatting about their men.

“He doesn’t talk to his immediate family, no, but he has other friends who immigrated to the area as well. They’re our family now.”

I’ll bet they are.

~

“YOU HAVE TO GIVE HER a better backstory, Dom. She just about choked earlier. Thank God, I could remain calm and give an answer when the girls asked how you made your money.”

I shoot an incredulous, defensive glare at Camila from my seat in Cas’s lap. It’s a good thing I don’t want to waste my glass of wine because I’m about half a second away from throwing it at her and pulling this bitch’s hair. “I didnotneed you to rescue me. I just needed a second,” I argue.

Camila purses her lips and swings her eyes to Cas. “She’s going to get us killed.”

Sensing that the longevity of his favorite anatomical part is in question, Cas stands up for me. “Camila, that’s enough. I’m tired of this war between you two and I’m more than tired of being in the middle of it. If you think she needs to know something, then teach her. I’m not your fucking mediator and we’re all each other has right now.”

We’re in the office playing back all the information collected from our conversations tonight. I opted for a seat in one of the chairs facing the desk but that was too much space for Cas and he pulled me into his lap in the chair behind the desk. I thought about fighting him, but I’m tired and honestly, he makes a better chair anyway, plus he smells good. He’s like a giant human candle. Hot and aromatic.

Camila is across from us, crossing and uncrossing her legs, busy pretending to not care that Cas and I are so close. While he and I were off groping each other earlier, Camila was making the rounds of the single men. She ended up with several phone numbers and while no one shared anything helpful with her, her mic picked up a heated background conversation about someone referred to as “the boss”.

Knowing that Mateo bought this house for a reason, and now knowing that Max is Russian and has other Russian contacts in the area, we feel we’re getting closer. Nikita seems to be in the wind though which is part of the reason Mateo couldn’t provide a physical address for Nikita’s personalorbusiness ventures.

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