Page 42 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

As I watch my sister chatting with Luciana from my balcony, something warm unfurls in my chest. For a moment, I forget about the risk it involves, but I trust Luciana not to do something stupid like attack my sister. In another life, they would have been friends. That’s what I like to think.

I have no fucking clue what to do with her.

I am her captor and she’s my captive, even though it feels like the other way around.

She’s fucking mine and will remain so until…

Until fucking what? Trapped in a quagmire, my feet sink deeper into the merciless sand.

One day it will submerge me—I’ll suffocate from my desire.

Her presence stirs a deep-seated longing that won’t ever resolve.

When I made the deal with the Syndicate, I let them believe her captivity would be even worse than her death.

Yet there was no torture except for the few attempts on my part.

Luciana was long broken before I met her, and broken people never shatter.

Instead, they learned how to stitch their cracked pieces together with an iron thread.

I can’t break her.

I can’t kill her.

I can’t love her.

This ongoing anguish only messes with my head. Gripping the railing, my head drops, the weight of my feelings heavier than the fucking globe resting on Atlas’s shoulders.

Even the side of me that has been hungry for revenge got appeased by having her—trapped in my ironclad web. If I can’t have her, no one will.

No one can touch her. She’s mine to do with as I please.

What I crave from her, I try to subdue because that would be a costly mistake—I lost my heart to her once, crushed under her betrayal.

She’d only need to spin her web of seduction, trapping my body in a haze of lust and passion that would be impossible to break free.

I need a damn outlet before I explode.

My men suddenly become more alert as she walks back to the house, following her movements with hawk eyes. She struts unperturbed as if she’s the fucking queen of my dark lair—unafraid and so fucking mesmerizing.

“Stay away from my sister,” I warn, my voice low.

She stops, tipping her chin up to me and fucking rolls her eyes.

“You can’t forbid me. And just so you know, she sought out my company. That has to say how bad you suck at it.”

A small smile teases my lips. Fighting with her pumps up my blood like nothing else.

“You did all the sucking.”

“You didn’t have any complaints,” she sasses.

“None that I revealed… it’s a dangerous thing.” Implying that she didn’t suck me well enough to forget my own damn name is a low blow, but her knowing that truth is even more dangerous. Fuck if I’d let her believe she has any sort of power over me.

I spoke too soon. Wearing a sugary smile, she bends from her waist and picks up a stone, then throws it right at my face. Thank god for killer instincts because, considering the speed and trajectory, it would have cracked my forehead.

“Say that fucking again.”

“Five men are waiting for my signal. You know all I have to do is snap my fingers, and you’ll be on your knees for me.”

“Yeah, because of your fucking collar. I would never get on my knees willingly for you again after what you said,” she snaps. “I am really itching to kill you.”

“Ah, amore, if I die, you do too.”

She gasps, her eyes widening. I let her stew in my confession a little longer before revealing, “That collar is linked to my heart. If I were you, I’d make sure nothing happens to me.”

I hear her sharp intake of air as I walk inside. If Kill is in my bedroom, she won’t come in. I underestimated her anger though. She pushes the door open, slamming it into the wall. This fucking woman keeps surprising me.

“You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I am kidding?”

“Fine.” She scans the room before darting to my nightstand and grabbing my gun.

She smiles like the lunatic she is as she places it at her temple, finger curling around the trigger.

My heart catches in my throat. “Luciana. Put it down.” Fuck me for not taking her crazy ass into consideration. My voice while firm, beneath it, panic ripples.

“Tell me again about my cock sucking ability?”

She’s insane. I swear.

I purse my lips, and she digs the nuzzle deeper into her skin, not playing around.

She wins this round. I am not testing how far she’ll take it—the price would be one I’d rather die than pay.

I give in, the words rushing out. “You have been the best fuck of my life. No one sucked me better, took me better, pleasured me more. No one but you, damn it.”

She tilts her head, trying and failing to suppress her smile. “Why the dress and the sandals?”

Every second she has the gun pointed at her temple, my heart threatens to explode. I don’t even think of lying. “You like those things.”

“See, it wasn’t hard.” She grins so wide, her face lights up and then she places the gun back onto my nightstand.

Grabbing it, I shove it at my back, my heartbeat returning to normal.

“I like that you gave them to me the most,” she says softly, constantly trying to disarm me.

“I just gave the order. Don’t flatter yourself,” I grumble, done with her bullshit.

I pick up my wallet and phone. I’m dressed to go out to one of our clubs. I haven’t been out in so long that the distraction is welcome.

“Where are you going?” she asks, casting a look at Kill, who tips his head in our direction from the carpet, utterly invested in our talk.

“None of your business.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, sticking the tip of her nose in the air. “You just made it my business.”

I am about to walk past her when she climbs onto my back, holding me in a choke grip.

“I see you choose violence?”

I am about to snap my fingers when the crazy woman bites my neck hard enough to leave a mark.

“What the fuck?” I ask, cupping my neck, alarmed she ripped the vein open.

“You asked for it.” She climbs down my back. “I’ll be ready in five.”

“I doubt that very much,” I mutter.

“Fuck you, Enzo.”

Walking downstairs, Kill joins me, flopping himself at my feet while I sit on the couch, going through my phone.

It was five minutes a while ago. Forty-five, to be exact. The more I think about it, the more pissed I get that I am still fucking waiting for her.

She shows up, and I gulp, cramming a fist into my mouth. My frustration reaching a new level.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Looking like fucking perfection and my fantasy rolled in one.

She wears the black minidress I picked that showcases her long and flawless legs. Held up by two thin strings, it would take only a flick of my finger to reveal her gorgeous body.

I want to lick her up, taste every perfect inch before I plunge into her pussy and never resurface.

Her long hair falls down her back like liquid silk, the makeup enhancing her features.

She looks spectacular. No point in denying the irrefutable truth.

The gunshot wound has healed, leaving only a faint scar.

“Accompanying you.”

“As fucking what?” I snap, not hiding that I am on fucking edge.

“Your guard.”

“I can almost see your pussy.” I clench my jaw, mad at fucking me for picking this dress handmade to make me lose my mind.

“Almost being the operative world,” she says with the sweetest, most fake smile possible and walks down the stairs in high-heeled sandals that could be used as weapons—blame it on fucking me.

“Ready?”

“I’ve been ready for the last hour,” I grumble.

She places her palms on my chest, tilting her head. “Aww, you waited for me.”

The ease with which she touches me and speaks to me as if we’re somewhat equals pisses me off just as much as it turns me on. She’s fearless. Bold. Takes what she wants. And I am her fucking easy prey.

Going outside, I head toward my Lambo rather than the Audi to allow us to live another day. She climbs in the passenger seat.

“It’s fucking blasphemy to let you even sit in this one.”

The corners of her mouth arch up into a bright smile. “Fun times.”

I press my finger to the start button, wanting to stab it to death with my lack of control with her.

“You don’t have enough money to pay back the havoc you wreaked.”

She fists her hands on her lap, glaring at me. “I know, Enzo. I fucking know, but the constant reminder doesn’t help either.”

I jerk my chin at her, not bothering to hide my incredulity. “I thought you’d make at least a few escape attempts.”

“I wonder why,” she says, playing with the collar before stabbing me with a hard gaze, but there’s no desire to act on which unbalances me.

“That won’t come off until I take it off. And as long as you wear it, it means you’re still alive.”

“We sucked at killing each other. That hasn’t changed, at least.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, sitting in silence as I drive to midtown with classical music floating through the audio system.

The line is a few blocks long, people waiting for a chance to get in while I drive into the underground garage.

She’s right behind me as I swipe the card to the private elevator that brings me straight to the office of the club. When the doors open, I see Mika at his desk, staring at something on his phone. He quickly hides the emotional turmoil and smiles, but it quickly fades when he sees my company.

“What the fuck is she doing in my club?”

“My life is interlinked with his, so I really need to keep his ass alive,” Luciana says, unperturbed by the frosty welcome as she wraps her arm around mine.

I try to shove her touch away, but she only digs her fingers into my skin.

“Does that include fucking him?”

“Mika,” I warn, then I pry her hand away.

I won’t make the same mistake twice. His incredulous face tells me he doesn’t believe me.

Luciana, being her unapologetic self, says, “Do you two really not have lives outside of your business?”

“More than you do, Silver Death.”