Maybe she was getting a bit too used to the power Tristan wielded. Not that it was a bad thing, but it was interesting how quickly she’d adapted.
Tristan gathered her in his arms, whispering soft words as he stroked her back. “Don’t worry. She’ll make it. The two of you will be giving each other shit in no time and wanting to go on an extravagant vacation. Which, of course, I’ll pay for because it’ll make you smile. And when we get married, she’ll be your maid of honor and her daughter will be your flower girl. It’ll be beautiful.” Tristan paused for a moment, then leaned back down. “Sweetness, please don’t react. Your parents are here, and they brought some extra security.”
Camille lifted her head and almost fainted.
Her father and mother walked in, both wearing black suits. Her mother in a skirt, of course. Fanning out around them were at least twenty men. All of them looking as if they could break a man’s neck with their pinky.
What the fuck?
“Dad? Mom? Uncle Luther? What the—”
“Don’t you let that word pass your lips, little girl.” Her mom walked up to her with arms open, and red eyes puffy from crying.
Camille rushed to her mother, wrapping herself in those loving arms that had cradled her from birth. Her familiar perfume calmed her nerves, allowing her to speak with some normalcy.
“They shot her, mom. They shot Shandra.”
“Who, baby? Who shot Shandra? Can you recall what they look like?” Her mom peppered her with questions, but she couldn’t think right now.
“I don’t know what they looked like. All I know is they began shooting as we left lunch.”
“My little demon, I’m so sorry.” Her father’s deep voice was filled with sadness as he approached them. Wrapping his strong arms around the two women in his life, they stood there for a few seconds before someone broke them apart.
“Mr. Sperry,mie scusi, Mr. Lucarelli has procured a private space for the family.” It was Orlando, one of Tristan’s guys. As they broke apart from the family hug, she saw that D was walking down the hallway with two guys trailing him. Shandra’s parents were right behind them, her father holding little Amina in his arms.
Taking in the men standing around the waiting room, Camille looked at her parents. Who were these people and what had they done with her parents? Confusion had to be visible on her face.
“Dad? Who are all these men you brought? I’ve never seen these people before. I mean, I’m not going to turn them away if they can protect us. But I have so many questions.”
Her mom’s palm cupped her jaw. “I know you do, baby girl. And we’ll answer them at the right time. Right now, let’s go to this room your young man has arranged for us. All things considered, it’s probably best we stay together.”
“But Shandra—”
“Will be fine,” her father interjected. “You don’t think me and Tristan both have her protected. We do. And I saw him speaking with the Chief of Surgery, who left to go scrub in. Shandra is part of this family, all the families, and we take care of our own.”
As they began walking toward the reserved space, Camille knew her father’s words were important. Her mind was so filled with worry about her friend, she couldn’t focus on peeling back all the layers. But she would.
Plus, how the fuck did her dad stroll up in here with a mini-army of twenty fucking men?
CHAPTER 12
Tristan walked into his uncle Roberto’s study, his face hard and unforgiving. It had now been twenty-four hours since Marco had gone after Camille. Shandra made it through her surgery but was still in the hospital recovering. Camille refused to leave her side, as had Shandra’s mother.
What hurt Tristan the most was knowing it could have been Camille in that bed, or something much worse.
Tristan had finally come to a decision, and it would change his life forever. He was ready. It was time for a new era. His uncle had earned his retirement.
“Tristan,” his uncle rose from behind his desk. A little slower, a little grayer, but still in prime condition. “How is your Camille today?”
“Still adjusting to what happened. She’s still at the hospital with her friend.”
Nodding, his uncle came around and sat down the in the seat next to Tristan. “And how is her friend doing?”
“Recovering. Not out of the woods yet, but getting better each hour.”
Nodding again, his uncle went silent as he sipped his whiskey. “When you were a small boy, your father always said you were destined for great things. Even at such a young age, you were keenly aware of everything around you. Smarter than most kids your age. You were the apple of your father’s eye.”
He knew there was nothing to be said, so he stayed quiet.