Page 179 of Corrupting Camille
Kane’s grip tightens around my hand, a firm promise. He doesn’t glance down, but I sense him anchoring me, claiming me. His touch whispers fiercely, You belong with me. I lean into him, my side pressed against his, absorbing the quiet strength he offers. Maybe I’m crazy, maybe this entire thing is twisted and terrifying, but right now, Kane is my only safe place in a city brimming with threats I can’t yet understand.
Joaquin stands waiting near a sleek black Escalade, mirrored sunglasses hiding eyes I’ve seen hold dark truths. Beside him,another man watches silently, tall, younger, lean muscles taut beneath his fitted shirt, his expression unreadable. I’ve never seen him before.
Kane offers them both a brief nod, authority evident in every subtle gesture, power radiating off him effortlessly. The stranger, someone Kane’s never mentioned, steps forward smoothly, opening the back door of the SUV. He offers me a respectful nod, voice low. “Señorita.”
“Thank you,” I whisper back uncertainly, but Kane’s fingers tighten again, a clear warning wrapped in possessiveness.
Kane’s palm presses into the small of my back, guiding me forward possessively as he angles his body slightly between me and Javi, subtly shielding me. His voice is low, commanding. “Camille, this is Javi. He manages certain things for me down here.”
Javi inclines his head respectfully, his eyes unreadable but probing gently beneath his lashes. “It’s a pleasure, señorita.”
I nod quietly, murmuring a polite, “Nice to meet you,” though I can feel Kane’s tension beside me, a barely restrained possessiveness radiating from his body like a silent threat.
Without another word, Kane ushers me into the back of the Escalade. The leather seat chills my bare skin, and before I can adjust, he settles close so close I’m practically in his lap. One strong arm slides behind my shoulders, the other coming down firmly on my exposed thigh. His thumb rubs absently, branding me quietly, deliberately, a clear and dangerous signal: Mine.
The car doors close with a muffled thud, cocooning us in silence and simmering tension. Kane’s warmth surrounds me, but my senses sharpen when I realize Javi’s eyes are on me again, this time lingering blatantly, just a fraction too long, on the stretch of bare skin where Kane’s shirt has ridden dangerously high. Heat floods my cheeks, awareness prickling over my flesh.
Kane stiffens immediately, the air around him going deadly still. His voice slices through the quiet, cold enough to freeze blood. “Eyes up, Javi, or you lose them.”
Javi jerks his gaze away instantly, throat working visibly as he swallows, tension sharpening his jaw. “Lo siento, jefe,” he mutters softly, subdued. “It won’t happen again.”
Kane’s fingers flex on my thigh, possessive yet reassuring, thumb stroking once more to calm the subtle tremble he must feel beneath his touch. He shifts his attention fully to Javi now, tone deceptively smooth yet edged with steel. “Start talking. Tell me exactly what’s going on.”
Javi hesitates again, clearly uncomfortable. His gaze flicks briefly toward me, wary of my presence, uncertain how freely he can speak.
Kane’s patience fractures visibly, his voice dropping dangerously lower, lethal, commanding. “If I trust her enough to keep her this close, you trust her enough to speak. Now, talk.”
“It’s bad,” Javi says. No hesitation. No sugarcoating.
Kane’s jaw tightens, but his voice stays cool. Controlled. “How bad?”
Javi hesitates this time, as if choosing his words carefully. “Mateo wasn’t the only one. There’s been retaliation. Two more hits overnight. One of Diego’s warehouses burned.”
Kane absorbs this in silence, the shift in his energy palpable. His knuckles flex briefly against the seat, fingers brushing my shoulder softly, almost absently, as if reassuring himself I’m still here.
Still safe.
“Does Diego know who?” Kane asks, quiet now. Dangerous.
“He has suspicions,” Joaquin interjects softly. “He’s waiting on you.”
Kane’s mouth curves into something darkly cynical. “Of course he is.”
The conversation fades, but the tension remains, thick and charged, the air heavy with unspoken threats. Kane stares straight ahead, eyes hard and distant, mind already strategizing, calculating, preparing for the war he’s clearly about to step into.
My fingers drift to his thigh, squeezing softly, trying to anchor him the way he’s anchored me since the moment we touched down.
He glances at me then, eyes shifting from lethal to something softer, warmer. “You good?”
“No,” I admit softly, eyes locked with his. “But I’m here.”
His thumb brushes across my cheekbone, gaze lingering like he’s memorizing my face, grounding himself. Then he leans in, forehead touching mine. “Stay close. No matter what happens.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes flare at that, satisfaction and possession rolling through him, and he kisses me, deep and quick, marking me before we arrive, before the world outside can see the cracks and vulnerabilities beneath his armor.
When the car finally slows, pulling through gates into a sprawling estate lined with palms and guarded by men who watch with cold, vigilant eyes, my heart quickens.
