Chapter 32

Shay-Lee

"Do you want your father to kill me?" Orson tsked over the phone after picking up.

Rolling my eyes, I looked over my shoulder to ensure I was alone. The house was still dark, and no sounds came from it. Assuming Camilo was still deeply asleep, I turned back to the call.

"You already know the answer to that."

Orson snorted a laugh, the sound making me physically ill. He and my dad were currently in Seoul, doing business with only God knows who. Yet, their being across the world didn't mean they couldn't stretch their arms and work their power.

"I need you to fix something for me," I said, clenching my phone harder.

The ache in my ass and lower back, along with the marks covering my entire body, was still not enough for me to let go of my anger from this afternoon. While I knew Camilo was sleeping tight after fucking the ever-living shit out of me, I was still feral about the whore he fucked. And while Mrs. Morrison wasn't the only bitch he had his dick in, she was the first I'd handle.

"What is it?" Orson asked, his tone turning colder.

"Let's just say that I'm unhappy with my school administration." I was cautious with my words over the phone yet clear enough for Orson to get the memo. "Fix it," I snarled.

The line went silent for a minute before Orson clicked his tongue. "And why should I do that?"

"Because if you don't, I'll tell dear old daddy how much his obedient hound likes watching."

"You little shit," he hissed. "If I go down, you go with me."

Snorting a laugh, I shoved my hand into my sweats pocket and looked up at the moonless sky. The cold breeze hitting my naked chest reminded me of that night I stood on the hotel balcony, ready to die.

"You see, that's the difference between us, Orson. Unlike you, I'm not a coward. Death doesn't frighten me. So shut that trap you call a mouth and start fixing shit for me." With that, I hung up and went back inside the apartment.

While death didn't frighten me, Orson did, and yet I was willing to sacrifice a piece of myself in return to get what I wanted. Especially now. Leaning against the doorframe, I watched Camilo sleep. He looked so calm, sleeping on his back with one hand tucked underneath the pillow. My chest was tight with feelings and warmth I only ever associated with him. Emotions so raw and palpable, strong enough to chase away my shame. Unlike the first time we slept together, tonight didn't fill me with self-loathing. Everything he did felt right.

Welcoming that thought, I climbed back on the bed. "You're mine," I whispered after kissing his cheek and lingered another second to observe him up close. "Mine."

Slumping down, I buried my face in the crook of his neck and curled myself in his embrace. I closed my eyes and inhaled his comforting scent, allowing myself to believe, even only for tonight, that he was enough to make all my problems go away.