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663 Words
They boarded. ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ The inside of the jet was exactly what she expected. Minimal. Expensive. Controlled. ⸻ Camilla took a seat across from them, setting her bag beside her—close enough to reach without thinking. Always within reach. ⸻ Liam dropped into his seat, stretching slightly. Hayes remained standing for a moment, speaking quietly to someone near the front before finally taking his place. ⸻ Then— Silence. ⸻ Not uncomfortable. Just… unfilled. ⸻ Camilla broke it. ⸻ “Who are we meeting?” ⸻ Both men looked at her. Not surprised she asked. Just measuring how she asked it. ⸻ Hayes answered. ⸻ “Etienne Leblanc.” ⸻ Camilla’s expression didn’t change. But her attention sharpened. ⸻ “Shipping routes?” she asked. ⸻ A flicker of approval passed through Hayes’ eyes. ⸻ “Yes.” ⸻ She nodded once. ⸻ “I don’t know much about him,” she said. “Last year, it was his father running things.” ⸻ Liam shifted slightly in his seat. ⸻ “That changed,” he said. A pause. “He took over about nine months ago.” ⸻ Camilla glanced between them. ⸻ “Voluntarily?” she asked. ⸻ Liam smirked. ⸻ “Nothing in that world is voluntary.” ⸻ Hayes didn’t contradict him. ⸻ “His father stepped back,” Hayes said. A beat. “Etienne stepped forward.” ⸻ Camilla absorbed that. ⸻ Power transitions like that didn’t happen cleanly. Didn’t happen quietly. ⸻ Which meant one of two things. ⸻ He earned it. Or he took it. ⸻ Either way— He was dangerous. ⸻ “What’s his reputation?” she asked. ⸻ Liam leaned back slightly. ⸻ “Smart,” he said. A pause. “Too smart to underestimate.” ⸻ Hayes added, quieter— “Strategic.” ⸻ Camilla nodded slowly. ⸻ “Which means this isn’t just about shipping routes.” ⸻ A brief silence. ⸻ Liam’s mouth twitched. ⸻ “No,” he said. “It never is.” ⸻ Camilla leaned back slightly in her seat, her gaze shifting toward the window as the plane began to move. ⸻ Boston faded behind them. ⸻ And with it— The illusion of distance. ⸻ Because Louisiana wasn’t just a destination. ⸻ It was a return. ⸻ And returns came with consequences. ⸻ She felt it again. That faint edge of awareness. That subtle internal shift she couldn’t ignore anymore. ⸻ Not fear. ⸻ Anticipation. ⸻ Dangerous in its own way. ⸻ Across from her, Hayes watched her for a moment longer than necessary. ⸻ Like he was trying to determine something he hadn’t fully decided yet. ⸻ Then he looked away. ⸻ But not before she caught it. ⸻ That same recognition from before. ⸻ Still there. ⸻ Still unresolved. ⸻ The plane lifted. ⸻ And just like that— There was no turning back. The landing was smooth. Too smooth for what waited on the ground. ⸻ Camilla Duval felt it the second the wheels touched down—Louisiana pressing in before she even stepped off the plane. Humidity. Weight. Memory. ⸻ Boston had been sharp. Controlled. Distant. ⸻ This? This clung. ⸻ She stepped down from the jet without hesitation, her expression composed even as something deeper tightened in her chest. Not fear. Recognition. ⸻ Beside her, Liam O’Rourke scanned the airstrip like he expected trouble to introduce itself. On her other side, Hayes O’Rourke didn’t react at all. Which somehow felt more dangerous. “Car’s ready,” Liam muttered. ⸻ They moved quickly. No lingering. No wasted motion. ⸻ Because this wasn’t a visit. It was positioning. ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ The “neutral ground” wasn’t neutral. Camilla knew that the second they arrived. ⸻ Old estate. Private. Guarded without looking guarded. ⸻ The kind of place where deals didn’t just happen— They were decided. ⸻ They were led inside without introduction. No names exchanged. No pleasantries wasted.
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