Chapter 9 - The Trap is Sprung
Two weeks later, the storm that had been gathering in the shadows finally broke.
It began with a phone call in the middle of the night.
Camille was awakened by the low hum of Valentin’s voice echoing down the hallway from his study. She pulled on a dark silk robe and walked softly to his door, which stood slightly ajar.
Valentin was standing at the window, his phone pressed to his ear, his jaw set in a hard, dangerous line.
"Are you certain?" Valentin asked into the phone. "Where is he?"
A pause listened, then Valentin spat out a cold curse. "Chicago Outfit brought him back into town tonight. Dante helped them bypass my border security. They have him at the old grain silo near the eastern docks."
Camille’s breath hitched in her throat. Trevor.
Trevor was back. And Dante had aligned himself with the Chicago mob to bring him into Valentin's territory—a direct challenge to Valentin's authority that could spark an all-out syndicate war.
Valentin hung up the phone and turned around. He stopped when he saw Camille standing in the doorway.
"You heard," he stated quietly.
"Trevor is here," she said, her voice remarkably clear. "Dante brought him."
"Dante wants to use Trevor to prove I cannot control my own borders," Valentin said, walking over to his desk and opening the heavy bottom drawer. He pulled out a black leather shoulder holster containing a sleek heavy pistol, slipping it over his broad shoulders with practiced ease. "He thinks if he hands Trevor over to Chicago publicly, it will make me look weak before the board."
"It's a trap, Valentin," Camille warned, stepping into the room. "Dante knows you'll go to the grain silo. He wants you there."
"I know it's a trap," Valentin said, stepping up to her and taking her hands in his. His hands were warm, firm, and entirely devoid of fear. "Which is why I am going to end it tonight. I am going to tear Dante’s faction apart and ensure Trevor never threatens you or your family again."
Camille looked up into his fierce grey eyes, feeling a tight, painful knot form in her throat. She realized with sudden, terrifying clarity that she didn't just feel safe with this man.
She loved him.
In two short weeks, the cold mob boss had shown her more respect, protection, and true devotion than Trevor had in three years of empty promises.
"Don't die, Valentin," she whispered, her fingers tightening around his wrists. "Please. Come back to me."
Valentin stared at her, his dark eyes softening with a sudden, profound emotion. He reached up, cupping her cheek in his large palm, his thumb brushing over her lower lip.
"I have something very real to come home to now, Camille," he murmured softly.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
It was not a cold, businesslike kiss. It was deep, fierce, and filled with a raw, consuming passion that took her breath away entirely. Camille wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, pouring all her unspoken fear and hidden love into the touch.
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When he finally pulled back, both of their breaths were ragged.
"Wait for me in the inner house," Valentin ordered softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I will be back before sunrise."
