Page 88
Story: King of Obsession
“Just remove your foot from the brake gently and push the accelerator. The car will do what it’s supposed to do—drive.”
If we don’t get into a car accident, it will be a miracle. My men look at the car then at me. Even though they don’t dare say a word, the panic is clear in their bugged out eyes.
“Just so you know, I am an excellent driver.”
“I bet.” I snicker. “Satan himself handpicked you to deliver as many souls to him as you can.”
She turns her head to me while the car is in motion. I repeat. The car is in fucking drive while she gesticulates at me, calling me names. I see the iron gate rapidly approaching.
“Luciana,” I say, wanting to get her attention but failing as she enumerates on her fingers with the hand that is supposed to be on the damn wheel the reasons why she likes bikes more.
I’d like to stay alive, so I call out her name, eventually giving up as she’s on a roll. Thrusting my arm between the seats, I yank up the parking brake a few inches before we reach the gates.
“I saw them, just so you know.”
“Turn off the car and get out,” I say through gritted teeth, barely holding on to the grip I have on my control. She drives me fucking crazy.
I march back toward the house with her hot on my heels, shouting at no one in particular, “Someone teach her how to drive!”
“Excuse me, I can drive,” she says to my back in a high-pitched tone. She’s so fucking headstrong.
I get in my Lambo when she moves in front of the car and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m supposed to be driving you.”
I gnash my teeth, a deep exhale tumbling out of my mouth. “To my death, but we’ll have to postpone that. I have an important meeting that I am already late to.”
Why am I justifying shit in front of her is beyond me. Does she move? No. Do my men glance from me to her as if they’re engaged in an Olympic level ping-pong match. Yes.
She bends over, slapping her palms on the hood. “Get out and let’s try again.”
“Who the fuck do you think I am? I don’t give second chances.”
“I wish,” she mumbles.
I press the start button, but she doesn’t move, not deterred at all. I take several deep breaths, but that does little to ground me when she’s determined to push me over the edge.
I roll down the window. One scratch and I will spank her ass red until she won’t be able to sit down. Why the fuck do my thoughts run in a circle with me always ending up fucking her?
“Remove those fingers. You are forbidden to touch this baby after—”
“I saved your life?”
The audacity of this woman is unparalleled.
“Luciana, I swear to—” I am fuming, nostrils flaring not finding my words. My mind has checked out, having no idea how to deal with this woman.
“Stop making a scene. They have too much to talk about already. If you leave me here, you won’t like what you find when you return.” Her intent look promises havoc.
“Are you threatening me?”
She takes a step back, peering at her manicure as if she has no care in the world. “No, just warning you.”
This is what you get when you allow your biggest weakness back into your life—fucking misery with a heap of insanity.
My heart pounds a crazytudum tudum. He’s furious. His features pulled taut as he gets out of his car and slams the door shut. I will drive him. Period. Whether he likes it or not.
I stand firm. If he leaves me here and a single motherfucker laughs, I will kill them.
I shouldn’t goad him, but I can’t resist. I am not afraid of him, which sounds stupid considering I am his captive, and he has at the tip of his finger the best way to ensure I am not overstepping.
If we don’t get into a car accident, it will be a miracle. My men look at the car then at me. Even though they don’t dare say a word, the panic is clear in their bugged out eyes.
“Just so you know, I am an excellent driver.”
“I bet.” I snicker. “Satan himself handpicked you to deliver as many souls to him as you can.”
She turns her head to me while the car is in motion. I repeat. The car is in fucking drive while she gesticulates at me, calling me names. I see the iron gate rapidly approaching.
“Luciana,” I say, wanting to get her attention but failing as she enumerates on her fingers with the hand that is supposed to be on the damn wheel the reasons why she likes bikes more.
I’d like to stay alive, so I call out her name, eventually giving up as she’s on a roll. Thrusting my arm between the seats, I yank up the parking brake a few inches before we reach the gates.
“I saw them, just so you know.”
“Turn off the car and get out,” I say through gritted teeth, barely holding on to the grip I have on my control. She drives me fucking crazy.
I march back toward the house with her hot on my heels, shouting at no one in particular, “Someone teach her how to drive!”
“Excuse me, I can drive,” she says to my back in a high-pitched tone. She’s so fucking headstrong.
I get in my Lambo when she moves in front of the car and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m supposed to be driving you.”
I gnash my teeth, a deep exhale tumbling out of my mouth. “To my death, but we’ll have to postpone that. I have an important meeting that I am already late to.”
Why am I justifying shit in front of her is beyond me. Does she move? No. Do my men glance from me to her as if they’re engaged in an Olympic level ping-pong match. Yes.
She bends over, slapping her palms on the hood. “Get out and let’s try again.”
“Who the fuck do you think I am? I don’t give second chances.”
“I wish,” she mumbles.
I press the start button, but she doesn’t move, not deterred at all. I take several deep breaths, but that does little to ground me when she’s determined to push me over the edge.
I roll down the window. One scratch and I will spank her ass red until she won’t be able to sit down. Why the fuck do my thoughts run in a circle with me always ending up fucking her?
“Remove those fingers. You are forbidden to touch this baby after—”
“I saved your life?”
The audacity of this woman is unparalleled.
“Luciana, I swear to—” I am fuming, nostrils flaring not finding my words. My mind has checked out, having no idea how to deal with this woman.
“Stop making a scene. They have too much to talk about already. If you leave me here, you won’t like what you find when you return.” Her intent look promises havoc.
“Are you threatening me?”
She takes a step back, peering at her manicure as if she has no care in the world. “No, just warning you.”
This is what you get when you allow your biggest weakness back into your life—fucking misery with a heap of insanity.
My heart pounds a crazytudum tudum. He’s furious. His features pulled taut as he gets out of his car and slams the door shut. I will drive him. Period. Whether he likes it or not.
I stand firm. If he leaves me here and a single motherfucker laughs, I will kill them.
I shouldn’t goad him, but I can’t resist. I am not afraid of him, which sounds stupid considering I am his captive, and he has at the tip of his finger the best way to ensure I am not overstepping.
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