Page 209 of Corrupting Camille
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We step back into the courtyard, and the air changes instantly. Heads turn subtly, music lowering to a throbbing, sensual beat, firelight flickering across faces fixed in curious amusement. Diego meets my gaze immediately, lips twitching knowingly. Lucia remains oblivious, laughter bubbling softly as she braids her cousin’s hair, but Marisol and Reina watch us carefully, eyes sharp and knowing.
Camille’s grip on my hand tightens slightly, a pulse of anxiety fluttering through her fingertips. I lean down, mouth against her ear, voice rough and quiet, meant only for her:
“Relax, muñequita. They already know exactly who you belong to.”
She inhales sharply, a tremor rippling through her before she steadies herself, following me toward our table. Reina sets another glass down, openly smirking as Camille sinks carefully into her seat, legs still shaking slightly.
I don’t sit. Instead, I stand behind her, hand gripping the back of her chair, a blatant declaration. Possessive. Protective. Territorial.
Mía.
Diego’s eyes flick lazily over us, his expression amused. “Todo bien, hermano?”
I nod slowly, gaze never leaving Camille, marking her openly as mine. “Perfecto.”
Reina leans in closer, eyes sparkling wickedly. “Enjoy your tour?”
Camille lifts her drink slowly, cheeks flushing beautifully, embarrassment and quiet triumph battling in her soft smile. “It was…informative.”
Marisol laughs warmly, shaking her head. “Oh, we can see that, cariño. You learned plenty.”
The girls dissolve into laughter, gentle teasing pulling Camille back into their warmth, handing her grilled mango slices and street corn as she relaxes slowly, gradually easing into the rhythm of their easy affection.
But even as she smiles, laughing softly with them, she can’t help glancing back, drawn inevitably toward the darkness behind her.
She feels my stare burning like fire along her skin, possessive, ruthless, and achingly real. And she likes it.
Because no matter how brightly they shine, Camille knows exactly where she belongs.
In the shadows.
Conmigo.
Chapter Twenty
Camille
The courtyard hums behind me, music still playing, drinks still flowing, the warmth of the evening thick with laughter and the smell of roasted meat. Kane’s hand hasn’t left my lower back since we came back out, and I haven’t asked him to move it.
But after a while, I need space.
Air.
Stillness.
I slip away with a quiet murmur that he lets me go to, reluctantly. His gaze follows me until I disappear into the edge of the garden, down a narrow stone path lined with flickering lanterns and overgrown flowers.
It’s quieter here. Quieter than it should be, like even the noise of the party knows when to leave you alone.
I lean against a low wall overlooking the bay, the sky now navy and freckled with stars. My skin still buzzes with him. My pulse hasn’t settled. My thighs ache in the best possible way.
But my mind, my mind hasn’t stopped since the twins told me about Colombia.
I’m trying to catch my breath when I hear footsteps behind me. Not Kane. Lighter. Slower. Intentional.
I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.
