dvddies:
Luca was avoiding Camille. It wasn’t something he’d admit out loud, particularly due to how harsh and unforgiving it sounded, but he knew it was the truth. He didn’t dislike Camille–on the contrary, he adored her (or, as much as Luca could adore someone, he supposed)–but rather disliked the very idea of facing her again after showcasing such vulnerability in front of her the night of the fire. It wasn’t as though he’d waxed poetics about his concern for the Doefoots and Tatiana (Baby in particular, perhaps), but he’d still shown a side of himself, albeit only minutely, that he preferred to keep tucked away deep inside the cavern of his soul. There wasn’t any need for Camille to see him so concerned and distraught over the safety of others; it only made him seem weak. Like an incompetent leader who couldn’t keep his head sewed on straight.
And if there was one thing Luca referred to be branded as, it was weak.
Luckily, there was a great deal of work to be done in lieu of the fire that had knocked out a wing of the estate. Paperwork needed to be signed, permits approved, schedules readjusted, and his entire fucking life had to be adjusted to accommodate for the construction that would be taking place where the battered remains of the ballroom stood. Luca hadn’t had much time for himself, so when he chose to spend the afternoon tucked in his office, poring over some of the employee files he’d requested to be pulled in the off-chance of connecting any dots between his newer hires and the Russian Bratva, he viewed it as a reprieve from the strange turn his life had taken in the past week or so.
That is, it would have been, before a soft series of knocks came on the door. Immediately, Luca’s gaze shot up towards the door; he hadn’t ordered any food or beverages to be brought to him, so what was the purpose of this unannounced visit? He quirked a brow when he heard Camille’s soft, familiar voice and saw her head poke through the door. She seemed…anxious? Was that the word? Luca leaned back in his chair, eyeing her warily as she offered to bring him a snack amidst his work.
“Come in, Thomas,” he said at last, his throat thick with disuse as he reached for his cup of coffee and took a tentative sip. “Enter my humble abode. Take a seat. What can I do for you today?”
..
Camille nodded her thanks as she stepped in the room, taking care to close the door behind her. Obedient as ever, she crossed the room to set the box of sweets on top of a stack of closed files rather than hand it to him directly. When she sat, she crossed her ankles. Hands folded in her lap, on first glance, she simply seemed prim.
A second glance might draw attention to the way her eyes were downcast, or how tightly her fingers were interlaced. “I was just hoping to apologize,” she explained, lifting her gaze to meet his. “The night of the fire, I know I wasn’t as professional as I could have been, and I should have been more useful to you. I hope that we won’t be in the same situation again, but if we have another emergency, I assure you I’ll do better.” That night..he’d been phenomenal, strong..everything she wasn’t able to be. Under most circumstances, the need for a strong dominant to take a situation in hand wouldn’t make her feel the guilt that had made a home in her stomach. In the moment, she couldn’t fathom directing the crowd.
“I also wanted to thank you for saving Baby,” she added in a quieter voice. “I know it wasn’t for me, if anything, it was for her well-being, and Raphael, but..I don’t..I can’t..” Camille broke off, looking away for a moment to compose herself. She couldn’t fathom a world where Raphael, Baby, Luca, and Tatiana weren’t in her life. Luca was the only reason their little family was still complete - even after she’d delayed him by asking that he take control of the crowd. A delay that she shouldn’t have assumed could be taken. But for all her shortcomings, Luca didn’t seem to fault her. One more miracle the dom had managed to pull off.
Once she trusted herself to speak again, Camille gestured to the box she’d brought and continued, “It’s not much but I wasn’t sure if it would be convenient if I dropped in on you with more food than that. On a more professional note, I wanted to check in to see if there was anything I might be able to assist you with.” She couldn’t just drop in on him, become emotional for what would surely be seen as siilly, and not give him an out should he prefer not to acknowledge the fact that she’d almost cried.














