Page 48 of Gambit
24
OLIVER
“Close the door, Ollie,”Eliza says, without looking back as she settles in the living room with the guys.
I do, and it’s like I seal us away from the world. It’s just us in our sanctuary.
Eliza takes a seat on the sofa, and I find my place to her right, while the others arrange themselves around her. We have eaten like kings, and now it’s time to chill out before we have to go back to the academic reasons why we attend this institution.
I let my gaze linger on Eliza. Her sharp green eyes are steady, reflecting a mind always at work. There’s an elegance about her, even as she sits surrounded by men who’ve seen too much, done too much. But she’s the strongest among us and it’s not just because she can throw a punch that’ll lay you flat.
I love her fiercely, and not just for the way she can take down a man twice her size or outsmart anyone who thinks they’ve got one over on her. It’s for the way she sees us, really sees us, beyond the muscle and the scars and the history.
Leaning forward, the rustle cutting through the easy silence, I take her hand. “You see right through the crap, straight to the heart of things, and that’s where you’ve got me.”
She nods with a small smile, eyes catching mine with that intense, green gaze. It’s like she’s reading my soul, finding all the truths I lay bare before her. “I know.”
“No, you think you know, but you don’t really. The depth of this. For all of us.”
Raph clears his throat with an edge of discomfort because feelings aren’t his favourite language. He shifts, his large frame a shadow in the glowing sunset. “Ollie’s right. Eliza, you know I’m not good with words. But when it comes down to it, you’re the one I’d bleed for—without a second thought.”
Tarq flashes her a grin, satisfied from his one-on-one with her. “Life throws us curveballs, but you are always ahead of the curve. Count me in for the rest of your life.”
James runs a hand through his hair, his smirk betraying his serious intent. “You are the Queen of this twisted game we’re playing. I’m here for the whole ride, no matter how bumpy it gets.”
Her chestnut waves catch the faint light as she inclines her head, recognition and respect in her eyes. She knows we’re not just four guys bound by circumstance; we’re her partners in crime and passion.
“Good,” she says, her voice threaded with power and promise. “Because I need all of you. Not just as muscle or as arm candy.” She giggles. “We’re going to carve out a future together, and it won’t be easy. But with you by my side, we stand a chance at rewriting the rules.”
We exchange looks, nods, silent agreements hotter than any spoken vows. This isn’t just some fling or power play. This is life, raw and unfiltered, and we’re tangled up in it, wholly and completely.
The room settles into a comfortable silence, every one of us lounging around the woman we love.
Our gazes find each other, and for a moment, it’s like the rest of the world fades away. It’s just Eliza and me in this bubble where the havoc of our lives can’t touch us. I lean in closer, my voice dropping to a whisper that’s meant only for her ears.
“Eliza, I love you. Not just for what you’ve made me, but for who you are—the most badass woman I’ve ever met. And I’m with you for whatever shitstorm comes our way. Because believe me, there’s no one else I’d rather face it with.”
“Oliver,” she breathes out, her eyes searching mine, “I love you too. I know we’ve got a twisted road ahead, but I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side.”
She closes the distance between us. Her lips crash against mine in an all-consuming, fierce kiss, like the promise of a storm. It’s a clash of wills, a testament to the passion that’s always simmering in her soul. When we finally break apart, gasping for air, there’s a wild look in her eyes that tells me she’s just as committed to this—to us—as I am.
“I want to bring about a new order,” Eliza murmurs, settling back on the sofa, keeping our hands intertwined. “This isn’t going to be us against everyone else. I want us all to be on the same side.”
“How are we going to do that?” I ask, intrigued.
“I have plans,” she says. “But let me sleep on them a bit more. I need to have them straight in my head before we go about strategizing.”
We nod in agreement, and she rises, letting go of my hand.
“Go and get some rest,” I murmur. “You’ve had a long few weeks.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes cloud over momentarily, and I wonder if she’s thinking about Franks. Not much bothers her, but that knocked the wind out of her sails more than I think she will ever admit. It’s something we need to keep an eye on, make sure it doesn’t fester and turn septic in that brilliant mind of hers. TheMafia game doesn’t grant you sick days for mental health, but maybe, just maybe, we can create a world where it does.
“Eliza,” I call out as she turns and reaches for the door handle.
“Yeah?” She looks back.
“Day after tomorrow, wanna go scare the Councilman some more?” I give her a wicked grin.
