Page 24 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

I am in a bubble—one filled to the brim with delusions. Any moment it could burst and leave me desolate, burying my heart for good in unforgiven darkness.

One wrong decision after another spiraled out of control, that I’ve lost count in the last two weeks. From my failed attempts at killing Enzo, it just dragged me deeper into a vortex, trapping me in this whirlwind of my making.

I gave him my body that he uses and pleasures, toys with and seduces, fucks and tends to as if it’s his to do with as he pleases.

The hotel suite has been ready for days now, but I still haven’t left his penthouse, making a home like the idiotic woman I’ve become.

I ignore the deadline hanging over my head like a guillotine, ready to sever my neck any minute.

I rejected Adamo’s three calls, but as I stare at my ringing phone, Augustus is the only one I can’t ignore even if I’d like to.

A shaky breath stutters out of my mouth, and I answer with more confidence than I possess. I’ve always felt small in his presence.

“Luciana,” he pronounces my name in that gravelly voice, threaded with authority. “How is the vacation treating you?”

I tell myself that it’s the nerves that make me jittery, knowing I not only went behind his back but did so much worse.

I remind myself I’ve given him no reason to doubt me.

He’s too set in his importance to even take into consideration that I could betray him.

That’s the only silver lining in my position.

“Thoroughly relaxing.” Not a complete lie.

“There’s a problem. I need it to be dealt with. When are you returning?”

Never. That’s what I want to say, but I don’t, biting my tongue hard enough for blood to coat my mouth. Just thinking that has sweat beading at my temples.

“In a few days.” My heart deflates, sulking in a corner all bruised and small.

“Make it this Saturday.” He hangs up and the phone slips from my hand, crashing down onto the floor, scattering that small hope.

I am Luciana Rossi. My life is not mine. I should have never forgotten that in the first place. What tears at my sanity with the sharp teeth of a jackal is that it’s so easy to forget everything else when I am with Enzo.

In the last two weeks, the less I was me, the more I became someone who experienced happiness for the first time.

I can’t kill him. That’s an irrefutable fact.

Maybe we can hide our relationship. But what life would that be?

He will find out who my parents are. I have no doubt about that and Adamo can go fuck himself. I have enough blackmail material to keep him in check.

How do I make Enzo accept the only viable option available? He has an empire to run, and he has been neglecting it to spend more time with me. When we’re together, our world is secondary, just like our responsibilities. But we can’t hide forever.

Playing tour guide, he has shown me his favorite places in the city.

The only place he didn’t take me is the compound, but I understand his hesitation.

I have to stay in order for him to introduce me to his family.

I doubt they’d like me. His best friend hates me with a passion.

Mikail doesn’t waste any opportunity to provoke me. He can trigger me like no one else.

While Enzo hopes that we’ll get along, I have my doubts. We’re both distrustful of the other and share a common trait: we’re easily riled up. Last night we drew our guns while having dinner at the penthouse.

He was mad that Enzo brought me to their meeting and I got intel on stuff as if I were a corporate spy.

Plus, his sister surely knows what my intentions were when I came here. From what I gathered, Mikhail and Dahlia are somewhat close. He must have ratted me out. So, no, I am not keen on meeting the other two women in his life.

As the sun sets beyond the horizon and the city comes to life for the second time in a day, I lounge by the outside pool, waiting for his return home.

He has a meeting regarding some shipments and new directions with the American Irish boss of New York. I don’t care that they’re apparently friends. Tristan Kinkaid is a ruthless, power-hungry asshole who killed everyone to get to the top. He’s a strategist of the worst kind with zero scruples.

As part of my job, I have intel about anyone and anything at just a tip of my finger.

I can’t help but worry about Enzo’s well-being. I’d much rather be there to keep everyone in check. My protectiveness over him is so overwhelming that it takes everything in me to stay still. Every second, my restlessness increases, swallowing my rationality.

I tread my legs through the water, causing it to lash at the edges of the pool as if trying to carve its way free when I feel him. Everything in me soothes and comes alive, buzzing in his presence. An army of butterflies flap their wings, conquering my belly, just like he does my insides.

My eyes peruse every inch of him, making sure he’s all right. I expel a long breath, hating how the thought of something happening to him makes me a mess—vulnerable and terrified.

Not wanting him to see me this affected like I am not a damn killer but a fragile woman, I swallow the lump stuck in my throat. “How was the meeting?”

He cocks his head, hands in his pockets, looking like the epitome of male strength—devastatingly handsome, ruthless, in control.

“Just informed us about wanting to become an associate of The Syndicate.”

“The trio of hell? Even the Council has them on their radar. Are you planning to become an associate?”

Kieran, the bank owner, Cato, the Mafia heir, and Cameron, the star politician, have amassed tremendous power in the last eight years. They play the game well. Too well. But as long as their names don’t get on my list, they can enjoy their power.

“It’s better to have them at the table. One hand washing the other is how you make sure your empire thrives.”

Pushing himself off the wall, he strides toward me. Every step steeled in predatory elegance. He crouches in front of me. Curling his hand at my nape and dragging me to him, he steals my breath with his intense kiss that always leaves me hungry for more.

“I’ve missed the fuck out of you, mio angelo.”

I don’t have a favorite pet name, but when he puts the “mine” before it, my heartbeats reach a deafening crescendo.

“Anything new?” I ask instead, not so open with my feelings like he is, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

He lets me walk at my pace, because he’s never too far anyway—controlling yet keeping a bit of distance.

He’s taming me all right that I expect to be fully domesticated and realize only when it’s too late.

By then, I’d love my new life too much to rebel against—he’s so damn astute and emotionally intelligent.

“You’ll be the first to know. You have my word; I will leave no lead unfollowed until I find out.”

What he doesn’t say but rings just as loud is that he won’t meet my deadline.

I sigh, palming his chest. His strong beating heart anchors me. “What will we do, then?”

“Kill Adamo?” he suggests, as if it’s that’s so easy.

I shake my head. “And then I would have to investigate his death.”

His jaw sets in a hard line, looking at a point fixed as if it’s a target he wants to annihilate. “And we wouldn’t want you to lie to your precious Augustus.”

His name alone conjures his presence like a thorn poking at our frail bubble. Enzo refuses to understand my duty.

“We have no future,” I murmur and stand up, giving him my back.

That’s a bad idea. He yanks me to him by my elbow and grips my chin, making me look into his eyes.

He digs a finger into my temple. “I am there, Luciana. And I’ll make sure I stay.” Then his fingertips slide down my face and he sticks two fingers in my mouth, making me gag on them. “Mine to kiss and fuck. This mouth that challenges and provokes me, moans and screams my name.”

I am a hot mess, and he isn’t done, wanting to make his point clear.

He cups my neck, squeezing lightly. “Your life is in my hands.” He palms my chest and the organ behind kicks up, as if aware of its owner—clawing at the walls to flee to him.

Then he moves to my breasts, he gropes just because he can.

“Also fucking mine for now, because in the near future they will nurture my kids.”

I think I come a bit if it’s possible. Overcome with emotions, tears gather in my eyes. I don’t even try to hold on to them because he has this uncanny ability to unravel me.

He moves to my belly, palming it. “In here, you’ll grow my children, and I can’t fucking wait to see you all swollen, carrying my offspring—my lovely assassin.

With us as parents, they will be undefeatable.

” Then he moves to my pussy, cupping it.

“This I made bleed for me, broke her in, and I will fuck this hole of yours for the rest of my life. Fill her again and again.”

I am soaking my bikini bottoms so much, caught in this sexual trance.

“Every inch of you from the inside out is mine. Deny, lie, refuse, but it won’t change facts.”

I shake my head, biting my bottom lip so hard to keep from telling him the undeniable truth. That in such a short amount of time, he took everything in me apart and made me love him so much. I don’t want to lose him or this beautiful dream of our future.

With dexterous moves, he removes my bikini and pushes me on the lounge seat. Whiny, needy sounds burst out of me, echoing around us.

Rocking his hips, he drives into me, filling me up with one brutal stroke. He fucks me like a savage, thrusting inside of me again and again. My poor pussy gets battered, his balls slapping against my ass in a wild thump.

I dig my nails into the cushion, and my head hangs. He’s on a mission, knowing exactly what he wants from me, and he won’t stop. Wouldn’t it be ironic if he were the one to kill me with too much passion? This man is all fire and intensity that I can only light up for him.

His feelings are in the open. I am the one hiding.

“Tell me what I want to hear, Luciana,” he growls, rutting into me.

My pussy makes these squelching sounds while pleasure ravishes me.

I can’t think straight and when he holds himself inside of me, I think I might die. Too much rapture. Too much ecstasy. Too much fullness. He’s too much to take, but either I pledge my loyalty, confess my feelings for him, or he’ll fuck the soul out of me in his quest to make me surrender.

A stuttered breath follows a shaky “I love you.”

I can’t believe I said that, and I’d take it back if I could. I could have said anything, yet the bomb rolled off my tongue and exploded between us.

I thrash, wanting to get away, put some distance between us.

He overpowers me, making me take him and accept the truth of my words.

“You do, don’t you? Isn’t it better now, with no secrets between us? Neither of us hiding.”

He pulls out of me, and I swear my pussy is a damn masochist because it clenches, wanting the monster to fill her back up.

Sitting on the chaise lounge, he waits for me to go to him of my own accord.

I do. Straddling his lap, I slowly ease myself down onto his cock. His hand moves to my back, cupping my ass cheek, as I cross my arms over his neck.

He grips my chin, and our eyes lock. “I love the fuck out of you with every sinful fiber of my body and with every pump of my dark heart.”

Something strange happens. I laugh and cry and moan at the same time.

Palming my face, he kisses me long and hard, every nibble and nip opening the floodgates to hedonism. I lean into his touch, kiss him back with just as much ardor, soaking it all in—the madness and love, pleasure and pain, ecstasy and ruin.

He’s addictive and I am overdosing—nothing more than a junkie searching for their next euphoric kick. He becomes my only desire while demanding my life in exchange. And all because I can’t withstand him.

We make sweet love—unhurried. His demons instantly calmed down with my declaration. Every gentle touch is a testament of his love. Every breathless kiss is a vow of devotion. And every slow push inside of me is a testimony of his passion, enveloping me whole.

He has my heart, and that’s even more precious than everything I’ve given him. But the truth is, he stole it right from under my nose.

We both come with the name of the other on our lips. The night sky breaks out, pouring down buckets of rain on us, as if baptizing us for the second time.

Holding my face between his hands, we gaze into each other’s eyes, exchanging silent vows and half of our hearts so they’ll be joined forever. By the time he brings me inside, I am his—irrevocably.

After we lounge in the bathtub until our skin prunes, he quickly dries me, wrapping me in a fluffy towel before doing the same for himself.

Dressed in matching soft black bathrobes, we move to the living room, cuddling on the sofa, each with a glass of wine. I have my head on his arm, savoring this serene moment when his phone rings. He ignores it, but the ringing picks up right again.

I sense his unease, so I say, “See who it is. I won’t go anywhere.”

“You better not.”

As he takes the call, he mouths. “I have to take care of this. It won’t take long.”

I give him the same smug reply. “You better not.”

His grin is a work of art in itself, with a cheeky dimple forming on his right cheek.

Placing my glass down, I go to the bedroom to check my phone which overflows with messages.

I open the first one and I freeze, gulping as I scroll through them. In each one, there’s a pic of me and Enzo. You can see our evolution as a couple. Our intimacy is written in scarlet letters, making me guilty of treason. My fingers shake as I move to the only text message from Adamo.

End him, or this will go to Augustus in twenty-four hours.

The fucking snake.

This is all I’ll have left of the man I love.

My future is not mine. It has always belonged to Augustus.

Stupid of me to make plans, entertain my delusion.

Was it hubris? Did I think I am truly untouchable. That I wouldn’t have to watch myself 24/7 and an ocean and a continent apart. No one is free, least of all me.

As long as I perform my duties, I have all the power, but without that, who am I? A nobody.

The list of people who want me dead is long, not including the ones from the Council. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me fall. My enemies would follow me here as well. Enzo has his life in order and doesn’t need a ticking bomb in his life.

I am sorry, amore. You’ll never understand how much, but I have to do this for both of us.

A sob racks my body, and I place my hand over my mouth, not wanting him to hear or sense my anguish.

He will never forgive me.

Tomorrow we’ll end.

No more games, no more ignoring the truth. We’re on different sides of the board—enemies and not lovers, kill or be killed.

By the time Enzo returns, he can’t tell that I am slowly dying inside because now I must kill him.