Page 62
Story: King of Obsession
“I want to show the fucking Council I am not playing around,” he says cockily.
He understands nothing and this will cost him. I don’t warn him. He will fall and, most surely, he will drag me with him if I don’t find a way out of this predicament.
One way or another, I am screwed. I had my chance to come clean to Augustus, but I held on to my secret, not wanting him to share that part of me. And now, I have to help this idiot, or I will fall too.
The Syndicate is known for its swift and harsh retribution. They wouldn’t care that an ocean separates us. But this man is so stupid and delusional it makes him high on his perceived power. He snorts it without realizing he’s overdosing.
“I’ll do it,” I say, wanting this to end. I won’t allow a man to control me for the rest of my life.
His brows furrow, appearing surprised at how quickly I accept his order. Fate has taken the wheel, and I am just sailing towards the inevitable.
I don’t even bother telling Augustus. I just pack my bag and fly to Boston. I don’t hide my identity. They can be aware of my arrival.
It doesn’t change anything. By adding Hayden, the Syndicate has gone from lethal to almost untouchable. I’ve followed his career, how he’s stayed in the shadows and made contacts that rival the Council’s. One more dangerous man won’t deter me from continuing my path of self-destruction.
It doesn’t take long for me to locate Cato and Chiara. Their marriage is filled with pain and passion, a lethal combination—marriage in crisis that would describe them best. I’ll just spare them the hurt and kill him so she can be free.
I’ve been firmly invested in the love story between the Mafia princess and the Boston Mafia boss who has one weakness—her. Weaknesses get you killed, but apparently, he wants her more than anything else. Love makes men stupid and emotional.
Every week, I receive a calla lily from an unknown sender. It’s a warning. I wonder, and not for the first time, why Enzo hasn’t made even one attempt at retribution instead of playing this fucked up mental game.
He’s all I can think about anyway, and as Chiara and Cato engage in another fight, I see he’s done. And so am I.
Placing my binoculars down, I hurry to get in position.
I park my bike and bypass his men stealthily. I am quiet, focused, deadly.
And when he shows up in his private garage, it’s my best chance since he’s not wearing his bulletproof vest, finally.
Focusing on my task, I wait for the perfect moment. I pull the trigger, shooting him three times. I don’t aim fatally, but it has to look like I mean it. Then I speed away, driving to my hiding place and waiting.
I get confirmation that Cato survived, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
It will take him some time to recover and most surely, the Syndicate has my name by now since I didn’t avoid their cameras. I always wear my silver hair pulled into a ponytail. Hayden and I met once in Singapore. I was there to take out a CEO, and he said he would appreciate it if I could wait one more day. I did, knowing the Council had an interest in him.
I doubt he’ll give me the same courtesy now.
While Enzo is discreet, more of a deadly hunter in the shadows, the Syndicate is not, blasting through everything, so sure nothing could take them down.
When Augustus calls me the next day, I pick up as if I don’t have a single worry in my life.
“What the fuck, Luciana?” he yells, his breathing heavy with incredulity and so much rage.
I don’t recall ever hearing him curse or lose his composure. I guess he found out I was away.
“I had a contract. I guess I butchered it. Sorry.”
“You made a mess. I am very disappointed in you.”
Blah, blah. Maybe I am dead inside, because I feel nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing.
Just to be sure, I don’t leave immediately for Venice, instead I stay while Cato recovers, needing to know what the Syndicate’s next step will be.
I follow Chiara and her friends to a boutique, taking a seat on the sofa, waiting for the best moment to reveal myself. She has it all, friends, love, safety—so much privilege.
I’ve never been jealous in my life, but I think I am jealous of her. This realization doesn’t sit well with me. Pulling myself together, I make my presence known. Not even a glimmer of fear crosses her eyes.
“How is your husband? Tell him if he doesn’t stop sabotaging us, you will be next.”
He understands nothing and this will cost him. I don’t warn him. He will fall and, most surely, he will drag me with him if I don’t find a way out of this predicament.
One way or another, I am screwed. I had my chance to come clean to Augustus, but I held on to my secret, not wanting him to share that part of me. And now, I have to help this idiot, or I will fall too.
The Syndicate is known for its swift and harsh retribution. They wouldn’t care that an ocean separates us. But this man is so stupid and delusional it makes him high on his perceived power. He snorts it without realizing he’s overdosing.
“I’ll do it,” I say, wanting this to end. I won’t allow a man to control me for the rest of my life.
His brows furrow, appearing surprised at how quickly I accept his order. Fate has taken the wheel, and I am just sailing towards the inevitable.
I don’t even bother telling Augustus. I just pack my bag and fly to Boston. I don’t hide my identity. They can be aware of my arrival.
It doesn’t change anything. By adding Hayden, the Syndicate has gone from lethal to almost untouchable. I’ve followed his career, how he’s stayed in the shadows and made contacts that rival the Council’s. One more dangerous man won’t deter me from continuing my path of self-destruction.
It doesn’t take long for me to locate Cato and Chiara. Their marriage is filled with pain and passion, a lethal combination—marriage in crisis that would describe them best. I’ll just spare them the hurt and kill him so she can be free.
I’ve been firmly invested in the love story between the Mafia princess and the Boston Mafia boss who has one weakness—her. Weaknesses get you killed, but apparently, he wants her more than anything else. Love makes men stupid and emotional.
Every week, I receive a calla lily from an unknown sender. It’s a warning. I wonder, and not for the first time, why Enzo hasn’t made even one attempt at retribution instead of playing this fucked up mental game.
He’s all I can think about anyway, and as Chiara and Cato engage in another fight, I see he’s done. And so am I.
Placing my binoculars down, I hurry to get in position.
I park my bike and bypass his men stealthily. I am quiet, focused, deadly.
And when he shows up in his private garage, it’s my best chance since he’s not wearing his bulletproof vest, finally.
Focusing on my task, I wait for the perfect moment. I pull the trigger, shooting him three times. I don’t aim fatally, but it has to look like I mean it. Then I speed away, driving to my hiding place and waiting.
I get confirmation that Cato survived, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
It will take him some time to recover and most surely, the Syndicate has my name by now since I didn’t avoid their cameras. I always wear my silver hair pulled into a ponytail. Hayden and I met once in Singapore. I was there to take out a CEO, and he said he would appreciate it if I could wait one more day. I did, knowing the Council had an interest in him.
I doubt he’ll give me the same courtesy now.
While Enzo is discreet, more of a deadly hunter in the shadows, the Syndicate is not, blasting through everything, so sure nothing could take them down.
When Augustus calls me the next day, I pick up as if I don’t have a single worry in my life.
“What the fuck, Luciana?” he yells, his breathing heavy with incredulity and so much rage.
I don’t recall ever hearing him curse or lose his composure. I guess he found out I was away.
“I had a contract. I guess I butchered it. Sorry.”
“You made a mess. I am very disappointed in you.”
Blah, blah. Maybe I am dead inside, because I feel nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing.
Just to be sure, I don’t leave immediately for Venice, instead I stay while Cato recovers, needing to know what the Syndicate’s next step will be.
I follow Chiara and her friends to a boutique, taking a seat on the sofa, waiting for the best moment to reveal myself. She has it all, friends, love, safety—so much privilege.
I’ve never been jealous in my life, but I think I am jealous of her. This realization doesn’t sit well with me. Pulling myself together, I make my presence known. Not even a glimmer of fear crosses her eyes.
“How is your husband? Tell him if he doesn’t stop sabotaging us, you will be next.”
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