☆☆☆
Camilla squirmed beneath him, the leather cool against her cheek, her hands uselessly cuffed in front of her.
Dominic's palm cracked against her again—harder this time.
The sharp sound echoed in the confined space of the car, and Camilla jolted forward with a startled gasp.
Heat spread across her skin, a deep, stinging burn that left her trembling.
And still, his cock stayed pressed against her bare ass, thick and heavy beneath the fine fabric of his trousers.
Her body trembled, the sting lingering hot on her bare skin.
The movement of her ass only increase the hardness of his diçk .
Her throat tightened, disbelief rushing through her.
Slowly, shakily, she turned her head to look back at him, her hair falling over her face, eyes wide and glistening.
"I… I accidentally hit you once," she whispered, her voice breaking, almost choking on the words.
Dominic's lips curved into a slow, cruel smirk. His dark eyes gleamed with something dark.
"Once?" he murmured, leaning down so close she could feel his breath on her ear.
"whenever I get struck by something… I don't return it once to the sender." His hand slid over her ass, fingers digging into her skin. "…I return it triple the fold."
Her lips parted in shock, her breath hitching. "T-Three…?" she stammered, realization dawning.
Dominic's palm hovered in the air, ready to snap down again, when a soft knock tapped against the window.
The sound sliced through the charged silence.
Camilla's eyes flew to the glass, her chest heaving, a shaky breath of relief rushing out of her lungs.
For the first time since he'd dragged her in here, she felt the smallest reprieve.
Dominic stilled, his head slowly lifting.
His hand dropped from mid-air and instead pressed firmly into the small of her back, keeping her pinned in place.
With a flick of his wrist, he rolled the window down.
Blake leaned into Dominic ear..
He bent closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper meant for Dominic's ear alone.
Dominic gave Blake a small nod, and without hesitation, Blake circled the car and slid into the driver's seat.
Dominic leaned back against the seat, his arm locked firmly around Camilla's waist as she sat on his lap, her body tense and trembling.
Her panties hung helplessly at her thighs, and her cuffed wrists rested uselessly against her stomach.
When she made another weak attempt to lift herself off him, Dominic pressed her down without effort.
His lips brushed close to her ear, his voice sharp and unyielding.
"I suggest you don't do that," he said, the chill in his tone making her shiver harder than the iron cuffs around her wrists.
Her lips parted but no words came.
The faint hum of the engine filled the silence as Blake drove out of the casino premises.
Camilla turned her face toward the window, her reflection staring back at her.
"I came here to collect my paycheck…" she thought bitterly, biting down on her lip until it hurt. "…but I'm leaving empty-handed."
Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her mind racing.
But Dominic's steady grip on her made one thing painfully clear—he wasn't letting go of her right now.
☆
" ADAM'S VILLA "
The heavy creak of the staircase echoed through the quiet villa as Vito descended, his hand lazily gliding along the polished railing.
In the living room below, the faint smell of vodka lingered in the air.
On the couch, Theo the first son of the Adams lounged with a half-empty glass in his hand, his legs sprawled carelessly .
His gaze flicked up briefly when Vito entered, but he didn't move otherwise.
Vito crossed the room.
He sat just on the second couch opposite to Theo.
his jaw tight, and stopped just a few feet away.
"Thanks," he said, his tone low, deliberate.
"For telling me about Dominic and Veronica's marriage… I wouldn't be able to take it in if I had lose my girl to that psycho."
Theo smirked around the rim of his glass before taking another slow sip. "Don't thank me. Thank Stanley—he was the one who told me in the first place."
A silence stretched between them for a beat, filled only by the faint clink of ice against Theo's glass.
Then Theo tilted his head slightly, studying his brother.
"But tell me, Vito," he drawled, "why haven't you gotten bored of staying with Veronica yet? You've been glued to her for years now."
Vito's lips curved into something between a sneer and a smile.
"I'm not like you, brother. You broke off your engagement with your fiancée just because you got bored of her.
Hiding behind the damn excuse of not wanting to cater for an orphan."
Theo's smirk faltered, but Vito pressed on.
"Even if I ever got bored of Veronica, I'd still keep her by my side.
Because if I ever let her go, and another man dared to get close to her…" His eyes darkened, his voice sharpened. "…I'd lose my shit."
Theo let out a sharp laugh, scoffing as he tossed back the rest of his drink. "Lose your shit? Over a girl? Impossible.
I could never. Why settle for one when there are so many out there?"
Vito leaned against the edge of the couch, his stare unyielding. "Then do me a favor, Theo. Thank Stanley for me, will you? I hardly ever see him around these days."
Theo was about to respond when the sound of the front door creaking open broke the silence.
The hinges gave a protesting groan, drawing both brothers' eyes toward the entrance.
Stanley Russo came in.
The only child of the Metto Russo.
A guy who had been tied to the Adams for as long as either brother could remember.
Together, they had schemed, planned, and failed more than once in their attempts to bring Dominic down.
Yet each failure hadn't broken him; it had only sharpened the steel in his eyes.
Theo let out a dry chuckle,"Well, speak of the devil… and here he comes."
Stanley's gaze flicked between the two brothers.
He shut the door behind him without a word and strode across the living room as though the villa belonged to him.
His polished shoes clicked against the marble floor, steady and sure.
Without asking, he made his way straight to the bar section, pulling open the cabinet with practiced familiarity.
A fresh bottle of whiskey gleamed under the soft light.
He took it out, grabbed a clean glass, and set them down with a soft thud.
Unhurried, he poured himself a measure, the golden liquid swirling as it filled the cup.
Then, instead of returning the bottle, he picked it up as well and walked back toward Theo and Vito, his stride relaxed, shoulders squared, carrying the air of a man who feared nothing and no one.
Dropping into the armchair opposite them, Stanley leaned back casually, bottle in one hand, glass in the other.
"Thanks, dude," Vito muttered, finally breaking the silence.
Stanley arched a brow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You don't need to thank me for that," he replied coolly.
☆
"ROYAL COLLEGE; STUDENT LOUNGE"
The student lounge was a wide, dimly lit space, its walls plastered with faded posters of past campus events.
A pool table stood abandoned in one corner, the green felt scarred from years of use.
The hum of the vending machine filled the silence, broken occasionally by muffled laughter and footsteps echoing in the hallway outside.
The couches were worn, sagging from the weight of countless students, their fabric patched in places where time had taken its toll.
Jadyen sat slouched on one of the couches, phone in hand, his thumb hovering over the screen.
He dialed Camilla's number again. The line didn't even ring—straight to voicemail. He exhaled sharply and tossed the phone beside him.
The lounge door creaked open, And Sky Jayden best friend strolled in with a careless grin, tossing his backpack onto a chair.
"Yo, Jadyen," Sky said, running a hand through his messy hair. "You heard about the party tonight are you going?"
Jadyen shook his head, eyes still on his phone. "Not going. I've got my shift tonight—I can't blow off my part-time work just for some party."
Sky raised a brow, dropping into the seat across from him. "You sure about that? The Russo twins are gonna be there."
That made Jadyen glance up.
Sky leaned forward, lowering his voice as if it was some kind of secret. "You can finally get to see their beauty up close.
You know we never get to see them at all—on campus they're always surrounded by bodyguards.
But at the party? They show up themselves, just their personal guards with them.
"I'm still not going," he said flatly.
Sky groaned, throwing his hands up dramatically. "Are you seriously gonna miss this opportunity to see the prettiest girls in college?
C'mon, man. This is once-in-a-semester kind of stuff."
"Man, you've definitely got to be the most boring—and hottest—nerd I've ever seen in my life.
You don't smoke, you don't fight, you don't drink, you don't club, you don't party. You're not eighteen anymore, dude. You're nineteen. Live a little!"
Jadyen leaned back on the couch, unimpressed. "I said I'm still not going."
Sky narrowed his eyes, leaning forward. "If you don't go, our friendship is over."
Jadyen gave him a long look before exhaling in defeat. "Fine. I'll go. You happy now?"
Sky smirked triumphantly. "Extremely."
Jadyen stood, grabbing his bag from the arm of the couch. "We don't have any more classes today, right?"
Sky nodded.
"Good. Then drop me off at my workplace first," Jadyen said, slinging the strap over his shoulder.
"No problem," Sky replied quickly, already pulling out his car keys. "And I'll come pick you up later for the party."
"Yeah, yeah," Jadyen muttered, though the corner of his lips.
☆
" THE RUSSO'S MANOR "
The black car rolled smoothly into the grand gates of the Russo's manor, its engine purring low as Blake drove past the guards and into the yard.
He parked with practiced precision, cutting the engine before stepping out.
Without hesitation, Blake rounded the vehicle, opening the door for Dominic.
Inside, Dominic shifted, seating Camilla firmly back against the car seat.
His cold gaze locked with hers, sharp and unyielding, as if wordlessly warning her to stay put.
The weight of his stare was enough—Camilla didn't dare move.
Dominic straightened his jacket and stepped out, his presence commanding the air.
Blake fell in beside him, and together, the two men strode toward the manor.
They moved through the hallways in silence, their footsteps echoing off the marble floors, until they reached the heavy steel door at the far end.
Blake pushed it open, the hinges groaning.
Inside, the torturing room buzzed with a grim energy.
Maddox was already there, leaning against the wall with his usual careless arrogance, while Wesley stood near the table, methodically cleaning a set of steel tools, their polished edges glinting under the dim light.
Both men glanced up as Dominic entered, the atmosphere thickening immediately.
Blake stepped inside, shutting the heavy door behind him.
"The motherfucker who blew up our container carrying our goods still doesn't wanna talk," Maddox said, his tone edged with irritation. His eyes cut to Dominic.
Dominic's gaze shifted slowly toward the man tied to the chair in the center of the room.
Blood smeared across his face, dripping down from a split brow. His chest heaved unevenly, but his eyes darted with faint, desperate defiance.
Dominic calmly rolled up his sleeves, the fabric sliding back to reveal the sharp lines of his forearms.
He moved toward the man with measured steps, each one striking dread into the captive.
"Let's make this quick and simple," Dominic said,
"I'll do the questioning. You'll do the answering."
He crouched down in front of the man, their eyes locking. Dominic's stare was ice—merciless.
"Don't fucking take two seconds to answer me. Don't think about wasting a second of my time."
The man's lips quivered. His jaw trembled.
Dominic's voice dropped darker, slicing through the silence.
"Who sent you? Was it Ghost? Or the Adams?"
He already knew it had to be one of those two. Only they had crossed the line this far. One—a coward who lurked in the shadows, never showing his face.
The other—jobless, desperate men who had been clawing at Dominic's empire for years.
The man's throat worked as he swallowed hard.
His lips trembled again, but no words came out.
Dominic's expression hardened. He straightened to his full height.
then shot a glance at Wesley.
The tension in the room spiked.
The man's lips kept trembling, but still—silence.
Dominic's patience snapped like a brittle thread.
Without a word, he reached for the blade Wesley had laid neatly on the table. The metal caught the dim light as he turned it once in his hand, testing the edge.
He crouched again, this time gripping the man's wrist with one hand and slamming it flat against the armrest of the chair.
The man struggled, his voice breaking into a hoarse plea.
"P–please… I—"
The sound of steel slicing through flesh cut his words short. The man's scream tore through the room as Dominic severed two of his fingers in one smooth, ruthless motion. Blood splattered across the floor, dripping steadily.
"Answer me," Dominic said coldly, his tone devoid of mercy. "Who sent you?"
The man writhed in agony, his body jerking against the restraints, tears streaming down his bloodied face.
His resistance collapsed under the weight of pain.
"It was the Adams!" he finally screamed, voice cracking.
Dominic's eyes narrowed, sharp and calculating.
"Which one of them?"
The man's chest heaved, his voice almost a whimper.
"M–Mr. Adam… himself."
For a moment, silence hung heavy in the room. Then Dominic's lips curled into a smirk, dark and menacing.
"That old man really wants to die," he murmured, his voice dripping with contempt. "Does he still think my father is the one in position?"
He straightened slowly, wiping the blade against the man's bloodied shirt as if it were nothing more than dirt.
"I might just put a damn knife to his throat," Dominic said, his smirk widening into something deadly, "and slice it clean off."
The room was thick with the sound of the man's sobbing, Maddox's low chuckle, and the metallic tang of blood in the air.
☆
" TRAINEES BLOCK – THE PIT "
The Trainees Block stood at the far east wing of the Russo's Manor estate, an imposing structure of steel and glass framed by stone.
Its corridors stretched wide and tall, the walls lined with reinforced doors and observation windows.
The training yard outside echoed with the distant sound of gunfire, grunts, and sparring, while the interior buzzed faintly with controlled chaos.
Despite its size, the block housed only ninety-nine trainees—a carefully curated number.
The building itself had the capacity to shelter more than two hundred, but the Russo family never filled it to its limit.
Quality mattered more than numbers, and those who didn't measure up were swiftly discarded.
Every month, five new trainees were recruited into the block.
Inside, the air carried the scent of sweat, leather, and gun oil.
Rows of bunks stretched across dormitory halls, while training rooms with mats, weights, and weapon racks occupied the lower levels.
Everything in the block screamed discipline, strength, and survival.
Among the ninety-nine, however, there was a hierarchy—an unspoken order that everyone respected.
At the top sat the elite few.
They were called the Top 5—trainees .Natalia, April, Chase, Penelope and venom.
They weren't just students but field-tested operatives, often recruited directly for missions when others weren't trusted to deliver.
The heart of the block is a cavernous space known as The Pit. It wasn't a "training room" in the ordinary sense—it was a crucible.
A wide hall filled with sparring mats, weight racks, combat dummies, punching bags, and weapons cages.
The air was thick with sweat, leather, and determination, echoing with the thuds of fists and the metallic clash of blades.
Dozens of trainees pushed themselves to the limit.
Among them, Penelope stood out. Her toned arms glistened with a light sheen of sweat as she hammered the heavy bag with sharp.
Penelope took off the punching gloves.
On the far side, April sat motionless on a wooden chair, her elbows resting on her knees, her gaze fixed on the floor.
She hadn't moved in what felt like an hour, her silence standing out in the chaos around them.
Penelope approached, tilting her head slightly.
"You've been… yourself since last night," she said, her voice breaking through the haze.
April's eyes flicked upward, caught off guard, as if yanked out of a deep and consuming thought.
Her lips parted, hesitating for a moment, then she asked in a low, uncertain voice—
"Penelope… have you ever… you know… slept with Maddox?"
The question hung in the air, heavy, almost scandalous, like it had escaped her lips without permission.
Penelope froze for a beat, then instantly shook her head, her voice firm.
"No. Never."
Her brows drew together, searching April's face with curiosity.
"Why would you even ask me that?"
April's gaze dropped to her hands, her fingers twisting together.
"Nothing," she whispered quickly, almost too quickly, trying to dismiss it, though the weight of the question still lingered in her tone.
A voice drifted lazily from the corner, breaking the taut silence.
"I have slept with him…"
April's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing as they found Natalia leaning casually against the wall, arms folded, a sly smile tugging at her lips.
April's fingers pressed tighter together, her chest tightening.
"You have…?" she asked, almost in disbelief.
Natalia pushed herself off the wall and sauntered closer, her heels clicking softly against the floor.
Her smirk widened."Yes, I have. His cock is so fucking long and straight," she said deliberately, her voice loud enough for only April to catch.
April scoffed, the sound sharp, cutting through the air. Slowly, she rose from the wooden chair, her expression unreadable but her eyes blazing.
"No, you haven't…" she said coolly.
Natalia arched a brow, tilting her head in challenge.
April leaned in, brushing her shoulder against Natalia's as she whispered into her ear, her voice low but laced with fire.
"Because if you had, you'd know… his cock isn't fucking straight. It's so damn curved."
The words hit like a slap. Natalia stiffened, her smirk faltering for the briefest second.
April pulled back, her lips curling into a knowing half-smile, and without waiting for a reply, she brushed past her and walked out of the pit—her presence leaving a sting that lingered behind.
☆☆
" SELENA AND CELENA DEN"
Celena sat cross-legged on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone, before she let out a quiet sigh.
"I don't think I'm going to the party tonight," she muttered, her voice low but firm.
Selena's head snapped up immediately.
"What do you mean you're not going? Of course you're going," she said, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. "I already picked out an outfit for you."
Celena groaned, sinking further into the couch. "Selena…"
But her twin was already moving across the room, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"No excuses, Celena. We're going. Both of us."
She grabbed a small jacket off the chair and slipped it on.
"My pet would be hurngy Now, I'm gonna go feed Buddy."
Celena frowned, lowering her phone.
"But you already fed him this morning before leaving for college," she pointed out.
Selena shot her a look over her shoulder, a playful grin tugging at her lips.
"You know Buddy's a hungry beast," she teased.
With that, she strutted toward the door, leaving Celena shaking her head with a faint smile as her twin disappeared from the den.
☆
" LION'S DEN"
The afternoon sun spilled over the yard, glinting against the thick iron bars of the massive cage.
Selena's arms strained under the weight of the large bucket of raw meat she carried, the smell strong and fresh in the warm air.
She stopped before the gate, slipping her hand into her pocket to fish out a heavy key.
The lock clanked as she turned it, and with a slow creak, the door opened.
Inside, sprawled lazily on the grass, was a lion—its golden mane gleaming in the sunlight, its powerful body stretched as though it owned the world.
Completely at ease, sound asleep.
Selena set the bucket of meat down on the grass, then stepped forward, her lips curving into a soft smile.
"Wake up, Bubby…" she murmured.
The lion didn't budge.
She crouched down beside him, her hand brushing lightly against his side as she patted him.
"Wake up, Buddy…" she coaxed again, her voice lilting.
This time, the great beast stirred.
His eyes opened slowly, golden orbs catching the light, and a deep rumble vibrated from his chest as he blinked awake, fixing his heavy gaze on her.
The lion's amber eyes softened as they focused on Selena. His massive head lifted slowly, and with a low, rumbling sound—half growl, half purr—he pressed his mane against her shoulder.
Selena laughed under her breath, steadying herself under the weight of his affection.
"There you are, sleepyhead," she whispered, stroking the side of his face with careful fingers.
The beast leaned into her touch, his tail flicking lazily across the grass, a gesture almost catlike despite his monstrous size.
Selena reached back for the bucket, dragging it closer. She pushed it toward him, the raw meat filling the air with its thick scent.
"Here," she said softly. "You need to eat, Bubby."
The lion lowered his head, teeth flashing as he began to tear into the meat. Selena watched him closely, her brows furrowed just a little.
"You're too thin…" she murmured, almost like a worried mother scolding her child. "You've got to eat more."
☆
The heavy steel door creaked open, followed by the echo of boots on the marble floor.
Dominic stepped out first, his dark shirt clinging faintly to his frame, the faint scent of smoke and blood still clinging to him.
Blake followed closely behind, silent and sharp-eyed, wiping his hands with a black handkerchief.
Before either of them could adjust to the sudden quiet of the corridor, a blur of movement shot forward.
"lord Dominic!"
A slim figure darted out from the corner—one of the new recruits, barely in her twenties.
Without a second thought, she flung herself against him, arms wrapping tight around his torso like an overeager child.
Her voice trembled with awe.
"Oh my God—I can't believe it's you! You're my idol. You're the reason I came here."
Dominic's entire body went rigid, his jaw tightening as though the very air had turned poisonous.
Blake's hand slid inside his jacket, fingers curling around the cold steel of his gun. He didn't need words—he knew.
Dominic despised being touched without his consent; to him, it was not just an intrusion but an unforgivable violation.
For a split second, silence cut the air.
Then Dominic's eyes flicked sideways, razor-sharp, signaling with the smallest tilt of his head.
Blake moved instantly.
He tore the girl off Dominic with one swift, brutal yank, her squeal echoing against the walls as she stumbled backward.
Blake shoved her against the wall, pinning her with his forearm across her collarbone.
"She's new," Blake muttered through clenched teeth, his tone edged with warning but also restraint.
Dominic slowly adjusted his cuffs, his expression carved from stone, his dark gaze fixed on the trembling trainee as though she'd just signed her death warrant.
The girl's breath hitched, her eyes wide with terror as Blake's arm pressed her harder into the wall.
Dominic's voice cut through the silence, low and merciless.
"Take her to the torture room."
The trainee's knees buckled beneath her, but Blake's grip kept her upright.
Dominic's gaze never softened, his words precise, deadly.
"Cut off her hand."
The girl's lips parted in a silent gasp, her whole body trembling violently at Dominic statement.
☆☆
" DOMINIC'S CAR "
Camilla shifted uncomfortably in the back seat, finally tugging her panties back up over her thighs.
Her wrists still bound in the cold cuffs, she leaned back against the leather, exhaling shakily.
Something fluttered at the corner of her vision.
Her gaze flicked to the window—there, delicate and unreal, a pink butterfly had landed softly on the glass. For a moment, her lips parted in awe.
A smile crept across her face. It had been so long since she'd seen something so simple and beautiful.
Then—just as quickly—it slipped through the crack of the window, drifting inside the car, circling her.
Her heart fluttered with it. She giggled under her breath, watching it dance around her fingers.
But just as suddenly as it came, the butterfly floated back out through the window, disappearing into the air.
Her smile vanished.
Biting her lip, Camilla shifted, testing the cuffs. Even bound, she managed to reach for the handle.
The car door clicked open, and before reason could stop her, she slipped outside, her eyes chasing the butterfly's path.
She followed it across the yard, her breath quick, hands stretched as if she could really catch it.
So lost in the chase, she didn't realize where her feet were taking her—until her shoulder collided hard against something cold and solid.
An iron cage.
Camilla froze, her head lifting slowly. Inside the bars, a massive shadow shifted.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The lion's golden eyes opened, glowing with a primal heat, its deep rumble shaking the air.
Camilla's heart pounded violently, her back pressing against the bars, every muscle locking in fear.
Her throat went dry, lips parting but no sound coming out.
"Bubby…" a familiar voice rang from the other side.
Selena's sharp eyes caught movement—Camilla.
She blinked once, stunned, then her lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.
Camilla's wide eyes darted to the figure standing inside the cage.
"Who are you?" Selena asked, her voice calm but cutting.
Camilla's lips trembled. "Who am I…?" Her mind spun wildly, blank.
In this moment, under the weight of the lion's golden stare and Selena's piercing eyes, she had completely forgotten who she was.
Selena tilted her head, her expression darkly amused. "No one crosses Bubby's territory." She stepped closer, her hand resting lazily against the cage. "Not unless they want to pay for it."
The lion gave a low growl, pacing slowly within the bars, his massive body radiating power.
Selena's smirk deepened. "It's been over a year since he's actually eaten a human being."
Camilla's entire body shook at those words, her breath ragged.
Her eyes flicked desperately between the lion and the girl, heart pounding so violently she thought it might burst.
"Since you've crossed into his territory," Selena continued, her tone dripping like venom, "why don't you offer yourself to him?"
Her hand slipped across the bars, and with a smooth motion, she pushed the cage door open.
Selena stepped out casually, her stride graceful, unhurried. Behind her, the lion followed, stretching his huge frame as though waking to a long-awaited hunt.
Camilla stumbled backward, her wrists still bound, her whole body trembling.
"If you run now…" Selena's voice floated out, soft and taunting. "You might escape death."
The words snapped something inside Camilla.
Panic surged through her veins, and she spun on her heel, bolting across the yard.
Instantly, the lion roared, the sound splitting the air, and charged after her—his paws thundering against the ground, closing the distance with terrifying speed.
The thunder of paws shook the ground behind her.
Camilla ran for her life, breath tearing through her lungs, heart racing so hard it felt like it would explode.
Her cuffed wrists made her movements clumsy, the metal biting into her skin as she pumped her arms.
Behind her, the lion roared—deep, feral, the kind of sound that froze blood and clawed at her sanity.
Its mane rippled in the wind as it closed the gap, each bound bringing it closer.
And a few yards back—Selena stood coolly, her back rested against the lion's massive iron cage, arms folded.
A smirk tugged at her lips, her eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction as she watched the chaos.
"Run faster, darling," she muttered under her breath, amused. "Or he'll catch you."
Camilla's chest heaved, terror blinding her—until she spotted him.
Dominic.
With a broken cry, Camilla sprinted straight at him.
At the last moment, she leapt, crashing into his chest, her cuffed hands hooking around his neck.
Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, clinging as though she'd die if she let go.
Her cuffed hands still managed to wrap around his neck, clinging desperately as though letting go meant certain death.
Her face pressed into his chest, her voice trembling, raw with terror.
"That lion is gonna eat me… I'm scared."
"That lion is gonna eat me—I'm scared…"
Dominic froze. His entire body went rigid.
Blake stood at his side, his eyes were glued to Camilla—staring so wide it was like his eyeball was about to pop.