Page 4 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

“Sleep can’t give me what I need. Nothing ever does… what I want, I will never have.”

Before I can ask her what that is, because I would give her anything she wants, she hangs up. Whatever she wishes, she believes it’s impossible to achieve, even for me.

Throwing my head back, I grip the arms of the chair, trying to control the fury roiling inside me.

I would love nothing more than to get my hands on those who hurt her.

But I’ll never get the chance. Mika killed them.

My chest aches with the reminder that some things are impossible, even for me. I can’t make things right by her again.

Getting my shit together, I go through tonight’s profits from the legit businesses including transportation, hotels, real estate, clubs, and restaurants before running through other ones: guns, drugs, and a plethora of other goods, and then speak with our men to ensure things went smoothly.

Problems are rare. We keep Reno as clean as possible.

We know who we are, and the people suspect what we do, but the devil you know is better than the one you don’t.

Plus, we give back, not to atone for our sins, but to maintain acceptance of our dealings.

Thousands of people work for us as our influence spans throughout Nevada and California.

The city has thrived and grown under our influence. That’s why I am pro peace, so the bloodshed and our criminal dealings don’t provoke intolerance. We rule from the shadows. To be exposed in the open would be unfathomable.

While we have everyone in check, there are always vigilantes hoping to put an end to the criminal underground—a utopia that still appeals to many.

As if our nature could be ever so moral as to think we could uproot the balance of good and bad, right and wrong.

These elements are interconnected, and as long as humans exist, our nature will maintain this duality.

I don’t want the attention, and we do whatever is necessary to keep the peace in Reno and the surrounding area.

I’d bring the bloodshed somewhere else just to keep my home clean, but again, the industrial area on the outskirts of town is ours.

It’s where Mika indulges in his favorite pastime, drawing tears, blood, and screams from those who cross us.

Each of us is the head of our own family, and we share a building where we conduct business, even though Mika prefers to be more in the office of his club, Debauchery. The name wasn’t chosen randomly. Everything goes. Nothing is forbidden.

We complete and complement each other. We only listen to each other and take accountability in front of the other. We give the orders. Our men execute them and follow our lead. That’s the law.

Luciana, don’t fucking come for me. It would be a pity to slice your throat and watch the blood paint your flawless skin.

My lids grow heavy, and as I close my eyes, her image is the last coherent thought I have.

My phone vibrates, yanking me awake. Fuck, I fell asleep in my chair at my desk. Wouldn’t be the first time.

I answer my sister as I stand up, cracking my neck to loosen my sore muscles. It’s still dark outside, the city lights being the only ones awake at this late hour.

“She’s here.”

Luciana works fast. Determined little thing. I walk toward the big window. I catch my reflection and realize I am smiling. What the fuck is wrong with me? If I didn’t know better, I’d say I am giddy for the events to take place, bored-of-life-motherfucker.

“She checked into the hotel across from you. Maybe—”

“I have this. Thanks, sis. And now go to sleep. That’s an order.”

From her deep exhale, I know she wants to rebut my request. I can hear her fuming, but I am the head of the Family, and she must obey me.

The bouts of anger she suppresses sustain my belief that one day, my sister will resurface, not just pieces of her colorful and fiery personality, but all of her.

I won’t hide in my penthouse just because Luciana’s here. My windows on the top level are bulletproof—reinforced to survive even an atomic blast. And she will find that out.

Let’s play cat and mouse, Silver Death, shall we?

Her sniper skills are her forte. So, I cock my head, thinking the most logical thing is for her to shoot me from the rooftop of the building across the street. I’ve heard she’s so good, she can hit a target right in the chest, even from two miles away.

Just then, something hits the glass. As I stare at it, I see the trajectory of the bullet. If it had been successful, it would have hit me right between the eyes. First attempt failed. I bet she didn’t see that one coming.

I smirk as I slide my hands in my pockets, seemingly unperturbed.

I know full well she can see me through the riflescope.

A few more shots follow, one after the other, not even scratching the glass.

Is Miss Assassin so easily riled up? Her hand-eye coordination is impressive if she reloads that quickly. Why in such a hurry though?

It’s insulting that she thinks she can take me down that fast and with no preparation. You fucked up, Luciana.

“Oops,” I mouth and turn my back to her, going straight for the shower.

Along the pristine white walls, pictures in black and white hang, just like the rest of my penthouse—minimalist yet with the finest amenities. I might not need much, but I want my stuff to be of the best quality.

Something buzzes under my skin, something akin to excitement.

I must truly be deranged. I am enjoying this game too much.

As the water flows down my back, killing ideas run through my head.

The platinum cross and rose pendant I am wearing rests against my chest. It’s the one thing I never take off.

A reminder there is something bigger beyond us.

Or maybe I am wrong and there is nothing, but this is one bet I won’t win or lose.

One of us will die. And while I don’t seek my end, the people I love will be in great hands. That knowledge offers me comfort but also motivates me to stay, endure, and do my fucking best to be there for them.

Sorry, Silver Death. I can’t let you win. Your record ends here.