Page 40 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

My heart pounds a crazy tudum 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.

“Why?” he asks, voice gruff with loss of control. He’s on edge.

So am I. We need to figure out how to navigate these powerful emotions the other brings out.

“I am your personal guard, am I not? And I take my job seriously.”

In stilted silence, he stomps over to the Audi while I speed walk, needing two steps for one of his.

He gets in the back, not even waiting for me to open the door. Good, since the last time I checked, his hands worked just fine.

I am not even trying to hide my smile because it feels like a win.

He is the key to unlocking a lot of things in my life. Most will remain dormant wishes, but maybe he’ll tell me the truth if I save his life. The occasion will surely arise and while I know he will never set me free, he can share my birth information.

The moment I am in the driver’s seat, his jaw sets in a hard line. “I don’t know what you’re after, but you’ll be disappointed. Now drive.”

“Could you—”

“Take me to the office,” he orders without letting me ask my question.

After he gives me quick directions, we spend the drive to the city in silence as I steal glances at him in the mirror.

He’s on his phone, his fingers typing fast. Was there someone else in my absence?

The thought guts me, putting me in a murderous mood.

I hope he didn’t sleep with another woman, or I’ll kill him.

“Eyes on the fucking road,” he says, not looking up from his device.

I huff, blaming him for making me so damn unfocused.

We reach the underground garage, and I try parking between two cars with no space left on either side. I remain perfectly silent, hoping he won’t notice it. Bikes are much more practical.

“Luciana,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking outside.

“What?” I shout, frustrated.

“How the fuck do I get out?” he shouts back.

I’m sweating by the time I back this beast up and fail to park it in a better spot. Cursing the stupid car and stupid ego of a man needing such a monstrosity of a vehicle.

“Move to the passenger seat. You’re the worst guard I’ve ever had.”

It takes everything in me not to react. I swallow my ego and let him drive his own stupid car. Smoothly, he maneuvers the car, driving it to another area where there are no others. He could have told me he has an entire level just for himself.

“Asshole,” I mumble under my breath.

“What was that?” he asks, knowing full well what I said.

“You’re such an excellent driver.”

“Compared to you, anyone is.”

I am about to speak the word out loud when he grips my chin and says, “Don’t open that mouth of yours or you’ll be in big trouble.”

How my brain associates big with his cock right now is genuinely disturbing.

I accompany him because I am his guard. My place is next to him. Thankfully, he doesn’t say a thing.

His assistant greets him, his eyes widening at my presence, but he keeps his mouth shut. I recognize ambition when I see it.

“Miss Monroe is here,” he says.

Who the fuck is she? I don’t need an order, I’ll put her on the list myself.

Gnashing my teeth, I follow him into his office, ignoring his hard stare. Am I overstepping? I don’t care, as I’ve never been appointed a personal guard before. Even with Augustus, my best men looked after him. I had more important things to do.

The woman is beautiful, and her dress compliments her hourglass figure. They greet each other with a kiss on the cheek.

“I apologize for the delay,” he says in that deep and sinful voice of his, smiling at her. It doesn’t reach his eyes and there is no flirty look. He’s nothing but professional, yet jealousy has my nostrils flaring.

“Nice of you to join us,” says Mikail, who gives me a hard stare.

I was so busy taking in their exchange, I didn’t notice that he was here as well.

This is a meeting, and Mikail makes me feel unwanted by constantly glaring at me. I glare right back, needing an outlet for my wayward emotions.

“Can we proceed now?” she asks and moves toward the coffee table.

Enzo pulls the chair out for her, the gentleman. She nods, offering a smile.

I stare at their exchange, searching for clues. If they have something going on, I am going to murder him and have his fucking cold-blooded heart cooked and share it with his dog.

Mikail and Enzo seem to communicate without using words. I know it’s about me because Mikail almost stabs me with his frosty glare. Enzo ignores him, moving on with the meeting, and I sit down on the sofa in the corner that faces the seating area.

She speaks of numbers and gun shipments, and with the cloud of jealousy slowly dissipating, I realize who she is.

Zara Monroe, a gun trafficking heiress and an associate of the Syndicate.

I know Enzo works with them now. He became an associate to get to me.

They work together to increase their wealth, power, and unity.

If it weren’t for me, he would have never needed them to begin with. But he got himself some powerful allies. I wonder if those allies would appreciate him making me his guard and not dead.

“I admire your choice in guards,” Zara says as she’s about to leave.

I smile at her, liking when women cheer each other on. Maybe she’s not so bad after all.

When the meeting ends, Mikail and Enzo engage in deep discussion while other employees come and go.

He has barely looked at me throughout the day and has become increasingly frustrated.

Enzo hasn’t stopped snapping at people. Maybe he’s hungry even though I know the real reason, and so does Mikail.

If looks could kill, I’d be bleeding out on the floor.

As a peace offering, I stand up and go downstairs to the cafeteria, picking something to eat from the buffet.

The moment I return, his eyes root me in place. The relief battling with potent emotions makes me pause. Pushing through, I place a generous meal of meat, salad, and sweet potatoes in front of them.

Mikail’s brows shoot to his hairline. “I won’t eat shit you brought me, Silver Death. It’s surely poisoned.”

“More for me then.” I am about to retract my peace offering when Enzo grips my wrist. “Don’t fucking leave again without my permission.”

This man will make me mental. This is my gratitude? Oh, I won’t let it slide.

I pat my heart as if moved by the thank you that apparently would have killed him to say. “You’re very welcome.”

Not even food helps his surly mood. At least I tried.

By the time they’re done with their meetings, night has swallowed the day.

We spend an hour alone after all the employees leave for the day.

Whenever he glances at me, my heart rate increases, the silence thick with all the things we want but suppress.

Needing to do something, I stand up, going from the window to brushing my finger over the desk, then picking up a framed picture.

“Put that down.”

I hold his hard stare, not intimidated in the slightest.

“Shouldn’t you be focusing your attention on those papers you went through three times already instead of me? Am I distracting you?”

I bait him on purpose, but he refuses to take it, instead he returns his attention to the documents. A few moments later, he applies his signature, pressing so hard it wouldn’t surprise me if the pen cut through the papers and embedded his name on his desk.

Not long after, Enzo is finally done for the day, and we head down to the parking garage. I remain silent until we get into the car.

“Home?” I ask, seeking his gaze in the rearview mirror.

He turns his head, avoiding eye contact.

“No, a strip club. What do you think?” he grumbles.

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm. “I think you’re a smart man, so home it is.” I give him a sugary smile and start the engine.

“I need some entertainment.”

He’s pushing it, testing me. My fingers clench and unclench around the wheel.

“Use your hand and thoughts of me. We both know that’s the best entertainment you ever had.”

Am I ballsy? Of course. I’ve learned to mask my insecurities behind an impenetrable mask of confidence.

Our eyes lock in the rearview mirror, and he arches a brow. “Don’t forget your place, Luciana.”

“It was just a suggestion.”

He cocks his head, rolling his bottom lip through his teeth. “I saw the way you looked at Zara. Thinking about her and me—”

I grip the wheel, my knuckles whitening from the pressure I apply. “Enzo, I am warning you.”

“No, I am warning you. Who I fuck is none of your business.”

The warning unmistaken, I drive home in stiff silence.

As soon as I park, he gets out of the car, and I follow him into his home.

For a moment, I think of how it would feel to call it mine, for this to be our place. My delusion knows no bounds while my lovelorn heart holds onto its dream of being reunited with him with a greedy chokehold.

On the sofa sits his sister, playing with the monster who wiggles his tail when he sees his master and runs toward him. I freeze, not even daring to move as Enzo greets the dog, patting and kissing him at the same time.

“That was fast,” his sister says and stands up, gesturing to a bag that sits at the foot of the armchair.

“Not now,” he says, rubbing at his temples.

“It’s you who made this bed, brother. Now you have to sleep in it.”

He glares at her, and she waves him off, saying, “What you asked for is in the bag.”

She lifts on her toes to kiss him on his cheek, gives me an intent look, and then she slips out.