Page 2 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

I’ve never reached this point before, so I never considered what happens afterward.

What then? I will achieve my single life goal in my twenties.

But the lifespan of an assassin is questionable at best. My name might be hushed in the underworld as if not to call on me, but there’s something else simmering below—pure hatred and the need for vengeance.

I have the protection of the Council and that’s what I am gambling here.

For a planner like me, this comes with a pile of risks that might as well bury me whole.

“The past is gone. All that matters is now.” Augustus’s words flash in my mind like a warning, but then Adamo opens his mouth.

“You were brought here from the States.”

And then he’s gone, leaving me to question everything—a wanderer lost in the jungle of her thoughts. If I want the other part of the puzzle, I have to kill Enzo.

Without a second thought, I walk straight to my desk.

Opening my laptop, I access the Council’s search engine. Typing his name, his photo pops up. The Council keeps information of friends and foes, intel gathered over the decades.

It doesn’t even matter to them which category you are. All that matters is that everyone stays in line. They’ve ruled for centuries, and if you disobey, they send people like me to eliminate you.

My eyes roll automatically at the picture of Enzo Ferrara stepping out of his black Lamborghini as he enters one of his hotels.

The upper button of his black shirt is unfastened, revealing a strip of tanned skin and a silver object shining, most likely a necklace.

Shades cover his eyes, but can’t hide his defined high cheeks and sharp jaw.

No bodyguards surround him. It will be my easiest kill.

Tilting my head, I flip through pictures of him. Arrogance emanates from every single pose. From his smirk alone, self-confidence cascades like a waterfall. He’s a showoff just like any other man in our world.

I go through his file. He’s twenty-seven. Father dead, mother alive, sister Dahlia, a pianist, and his best friend is the youngest Pakhan in the Bratva’s history, Mikail Morozov. Interesting.

I can’t afford a single mistake, or I’ll have the Council and the Russian Bratva after me.

I graze my fingers over my diamond necklace. Every sparkly stone represents a tally for one of my kills: twenty-eight in total. And soon another one will follow. I feel nothing, not a jolt of excitement or a smidgen of pride. I wonder if there is something irremediable screwed up in my head.

After I book my flight, I call Augustus, each ring skyrocketing my unease. Inhaling deeply, I quickly steady my frayed nerves. I can’t have him doubting my intentions in the slightest. Why am I even nervous?

When he picks up, the deep rumble of his voice anchors me. “Luciana.”

“I decided to take a vacation after all.” There’s not a single inflection in my tone.

The silence on the other end is expected. He’s an overthinker, and it must come as a surprise. I stay silent, knowing if I babble, it will give me away.

“Things have been quiet, but I don’t like when you’re not available.”

Leaning back in my chair, I get as comfortable as possible. “My best people protect you. And if you need me, I’ll return as fast as possible.”

“What destination do you have in mind?”

“The States.”

A brief silence falls, infused with nervous energy.

“Why there?” His accelerated breath gives him away. He failed the test, which only makes me eager to complete this mission and find my answer.

A slight disappointment claws its way inside of me, but he’s just a man after all, flawed like the rest of them.

The only difference is I can’t kill him.

While I don’t respect anyone or any authority, worldly or otherworldly, I don’t detest him, per se.

My savior from a life of servitude. He was no God, but through my teenage eyes, he appeared just like one, imposing, strong, emanating authority.

And he gave me my first taste of power. I owe him, so this betrayal causes me mental discomfort I don’t know how to deal with yet.

“I’ve never been there.” I take a brief vacation once a year, just to be myself for a while.

“It’s overcrowded and not as glamorous as you’re used to.”

I like pretty things and pretty things are expensive. I splurge. Mother Gloria had always called me vain. I call it self-care.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to keep me from going,” I say in a playful tone.

“It would only make you leave even sooner. Where exactly?”

“East Coast. Want to find out if New York lives up to the hype.”

“Good choice to indulge in your shopping addiction,” he chuckles.

“I make good use of your money.”

“Never regretted my most costly investment.”

Yes, because that’s what I am, but that costly investment is irreplaceable.

“Anything else you need before I leave?” I ask, changing the subject, wanting to erase the sour taste his words leave in my mouth.

“No. Luciana?”

“Yes?” I reply automatically. Every muscle in my body has been trained to serve this man.

“Searching for answers only leads to problems. Don’t make me have to put you in your place.”

Tension stretches, hanging on the line like an unwelcome spy.

“I won’t.” My heart races as I speed on a one-way, lethal trek, chasing the truth. I don’t care if I have to lie and cheat to pursue my goal. I won’t be deterred.

Nothing will go wrong. It shouldn’t take me more than a few days and then I can return home to a place that is not mine. To a family I am not related to. To a man I’ll serve until my last breath—devotion mixed with duty, admiration interwoven with disdain. Iron cuffs keeping me in my place.