9. Kage

Chapter 9

Kage

W hat did you do?

At my shouted question, Moira’s expression faltered, a flicker of fear crossing her features before she rallied.

“I told Camille the truth,” she said.

“The truth being what?” I asked, my frustration mounting.

“What else? That you’re engaged.”

“That information wasn’t yours to tell,” I snapped, anger fueling me through the pain. “Daniella and I have an agreement. We see other people until we’re married. Hell, we’ll see other people after we’re married. The marriage is just a business arrangement.”

Daniella’s voice cut in, her tone so whiny I wanted to hit something. “I don’t want to see other people. I love you.”

I laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and grating. “Since when?”

Ignoring the searing pain coursing through me, I tried to get out of bed, driven by the need to find Camille and explain everything. Explain that Daniella meant nothing to me, while Camille meant everything. Yes, we were supposed to be temporary, but that didn’t mean I didn’t care about her, that I hadn’t fallen in love with her.

But I knew Camille. If she knew about Daniella, she’d left here heartbroken. And determined. Determined to never see me again.

That wasn’t happening.

I fought to get out of my bed again, but my body betrayed me, the pain too much to bear. I clutched at my chest, groaning, and felt myself fading.

As I lay back, memories of Camille flooded my mind, her laughter, her touch, the way her eyes lit up when she saw me. Her attitude, the way she went toe to toe to me, the way she tasted and felt and sucked my cock better than anyone ever had. She had brought light into my world, a world that was dark and suffocating. As the heir to the Irish mob, I had always been taught to be ruthless, to never waver in my duty. But Camille had changed that. She had made me breathe better, feel more like myself. With her, I wasn’t just Kage, the future mob boss. I was a guy who was loved, and a guy who loved in return, even if she’d forbidden me from saying the words back to her. She just didn’t know I’d said them to her in Irish. I could only imagine the betrayal she must have felt, finding out from my mother, of all people, that I was engaged. And now Daniella was here, a reminder of my duty, of the life I was supposed to lead.

The life I didn’t want.

Not if it meant I couldn’t have Camille, too.

Deep resentment and bitterness welled up inside me. My mother’s actions had added fuel to the fire, but I had only myself to blame. I had kept that secret from Camille, and the fucked-up part was I’d do it again.

I was greedy. I wanted her, all of her. Her time, her touch, her love. I needed it like I needed air to breathe. And now, I was paying the price for my greed.

My gaze shifted to Daniella, who sat quietly by my side, a calculated look on her face, as if even now she was trying to figure out how much Camille meant to me and how she could eliminate her as a threat. Daniella claimed to love me, but it wasn’t the kind of love I needed or wanted. Daniella didn’t want me. She wanted to be the wife of the most powerful man in the Irish mob. And just like my duty, she’d sink her claws into me and fight to keep me.

Determined, I fought to sit up again, ignoring the searing pain. My muscles trembled with the effort, and my breaths came in ragged gasps. I had to get to Camille.

“Kage, stop!” my little brother Callum shouted, rushing to my side. I hadn’t even noticed him before, but he grabbed my shoulders, forcing me back down. “Calm down, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Get off me!” I growled, trying to shove him away, but the pain made me weak.

Suddenly, two men strode into the room. My stepfather Seamus and a doctor.

“He’s going to hurt himself,” Mom said, her voice frantic.

“Give him a sedative,” Seamus ordered.

“Don’t you dare!” I roared, but my strength was fading fast. As the doctor approached me with a needle, I grabbed his wrist and twisted. The doctor gasped in pain and the needle dropped. He struggled against my hold, and I let him go. “Get me the fuck out of here,” I said. “Discharge me. Now .”

“That’s impossible. You’re recovering from a gunshot wound. I need to evaluate you. You need healing. Time.”

Suddenly I felt something stab me in the neck. I turned my head and stared at a big burly male nurse who’d just given me a sedative. I roared and lunged for him. “Big mistake,” I hissed. Only the sedative hit fast, dragging me down.

The room blurred, voices muffling into a distant hum, but one thought burned through the haze, hot and unrelenting: Nothing and no one would keep me from Camille.

When I woke, I was going after her. I didn’t care what it took, or who I had to destroy. Camille was mine—body, heart, and soul.

Ty

I stood just outside Kage’s hospital room, leaning against the wall like I wasn’t eavesdropping on a train wreck. Kage’s voice cut through the muffled chaos like a blade—sharp, cold, and desperate. He was fighting to get to Camille, throwing orders like he still ruled the world, but his family and the doctor shut him down. It didn’t take long before they sedated him, which was poetic considering the way he’d sedated Camille’s heart with lies.

I hadn't come to the hospital with a clear plan. All I’d known was I was going to confront Kage for lying to Camille about being engaged. But now I understood. Fate was weeding out the bad influences in Camille's life and leaving her with the best option between the three of us—Dante. The guy had his own secrets and probably would lose Camille too, but in the meantime, I didn’t doubt he’d protect her with his life.

Kage's voice faded, and I heard the doctor and his family talking and moving around as he passed out. It sucked, but I was just as helpless as Kage was lying in that bed. As much as Camille meant to me, as much as I’d helped save her from the men who attacked her, I had to do the right thing and put distance between us again. I’d come to Crimsonvale to find out who had poisoned my family, and I’d gotten off track. I couldn’t give her false hope, the way Kage had. The hope she’d carried in her eyes even as I’d stood apart, watching Kage and Dante comfort her.

At one time, that had been my role. To comfort her. Protect her. Pleasure her.

My mind replayed memories of how she was with me in Italy: her fierce loyalty, her tender heart, the way she looked at me with those big, trusting eyes. Camille loved hard. She got attached. She didn’t deserve to hurt anymore, not the way Kage had hurt her, not the way I had hurt her, and not the way I would hurt her again if I stayed in her life.

Camille wasn’t mine to protect anymore.

I turned on my heel and walked out of the hospital. As soon as I got outside, I jerked my phone out of my pocket and called my supplier.

The exchange was quick and easy. The weight of the pills in my pocket felt heavier than it should have, but it wasn’t enough to slow me down. I was halfway back to the chateau when a brick wall of a man barreled into me.

“Watch it, motherfucker,” he snapped, his voice dripping with aggression.

I stopped, rolling my shoulders as a slow, dangerous smile crept across my face. “How about you make me?” I spat, my blood already thrumming with the promise of violence.

He swung first—a clumsy, telegraphed haymaker—but I let it land. The sharp burst of pain in my jaw was exactly what I needed to ground myself. I retaliated with a jab to his ribs, the satisfying crunch of bone fueling my next move. He staggered but came back swinging, and I let him. I let him hit me again and again until the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth, and my knuckles ached from the force of my punches.

It wasn’t about winning. It was about feeling. Pain was better than numbness, and right now, I needed to feel something other than her.

When he finally went down, limp and bleeding on the pavement, I stood over him, breathing hard, my hands slick with blood—his and mine.

* * *

By the time I got back to the chateau, my adrenaline had burned out, leaving me with the familiar ache of emptiness. I climbed the stairs to Camille’s room, my steps heavy, my chest tight. Her scent hit me the second I walked in—soft and warm, like sunshine trapped in a bottle.

I sat on the edge of her bed, letting the memory of her wash over me. She’d been fire and steel in Italy, the girl who never backed down, even when she should have. She’d fought for me, believed in me, and I’d thrown it all away. Because that’s what I did. I ruined good things.

I pulled the baggie of pills from my pocket, pouring a few into my palm. My sister’s face flashed through my mind—innocent, sweet, stolen too soon. I’d failed her just like I’d failed Camille. If my sister had lived, I’d have wanted her to have someone better than me. Someone like Dante, maybe even Kage, on his good days.

Not someone broken.

The pills stared back at me, promising peace, but I couldn’t take them all. Not yet. Not while Camille was still out there, walking around with pieces of my heart in her hands.

Instead, I swallowed one. Just one, to take the edge off.

As the tension ebbed, my resolve solidified. I would find the bastards who’d poisoned my family, who’d turned my life into this endless pit of anger and regret. And when I was done? Maybe then I’d take the rest of the pills.

But not tonight.

Tonight, I’d let myself imagine what it would feel like to see Camille again. To touch her one last time. To tell her that, no matter what happened, she’d always be the last thing on my mind.