Page 48 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

“Oh my god, that was incredible,” Dahlia says, looping her arm around mine as we walk to the car that’s waiting for us.

“I did it for you, just so we’re clear,” I say, sensing something is going on between her and Mikail. She challenges him at every turn, and I’m not sure if Enzo is naive or simply refusing to see it.

She elbows me playfully. “And to show my brother he’s a blind idiot.”

That too. It was her suggestion when I complained about his stubbornness.

“So?”

“You’re my best friend, but”—she sighs, her eyes swimming in sadness—“Mika and I will never be together. What happened to me made sure of that. Behaving like that with him is my stupid attempt to show him that one action shouldn’t shape our lives.

I guess he thinks the only way we’ll share something again is in misery. ”

Her words take me by surprise because the guy basically threatened Enzo, his best friend, and everything they stand for if something happens to Dahlia.

I don’t want to ruin our girl time, so I drop it for now.

I’ve never had a friend before, but she makes it easy with her bubbly personality.

She’s complex like any person with demons and she’s so freaking talented.

Her playing is haunting, chilling, yet captivating at the same time.

It’s like she gets in touch with a raw and deep pain and turns it into a masterpiece.

“Let’s show him what he’s missing.”

“Please, I doubt my brother treats you like a porcelain doll.”

I am not a blusher, but the reminder has heat creeping up my neck, warming my cheeks. He fucks me like anything other than that, as if he wants to find out where he ends and I begin.

Passion shrouds our nights—a fervent, wild one that always leaves me wanting to connect on another level too. But after one month, it appears to be unreachable.

“You should tell him the truth,” she says, nodding to herself as if that will end my predicament.

“I want him to realize that I could never kill him. That at some point, he would figure out I shot him with no intent to kill him. I hurt him, regardless, and I guess my love is not enough.”

And he punishes me by not giving me what I crave most: his love.

“You hurt yourself too.”

“Men like him open up just once,” I sigh, the sound broken, just like my heart.

As the driver brings us to midtown, I say, “We’ll continue living like this with all the secrets we keep from each other until—” I can’t say it out loud, afraid to jinx it and the end will happen sooner.

He will tire of me.

I was never good enough for him.

Why would he want to keep me? I’d be his forever if he…

Shaking my head, I look outside the window, this bout of nostalgia dampening my high over my win.

“Love sucks,” Dahlia murmurs.

“It does.” There’s no point denying it.

“Be patient with him. He’ll see.” She smiles, placing her hand on top of mine and giving it a little squeeze. “You look at him as if he’s the only one for you. You brighten up every time he’s near. And when you stay home, you’re restless until he returns.”

As I settled in, I paved my path into the family.

While I am his guard, I have tapped also into training his men and his sister, feeling more like myself.

I was never a foot soldier because I am also his woman, even though he refuses to acknowledge it.

I like my life exactly how it is. After years of wandering lost, I’ve found my place.

“How long do you think we need to spend it all?” she asks, changing the subject.

“In the right shop, a few minutes,” I say and we both giggle.

The driver parks, opening the door for us.

This high-end boutique is my favorite. It was the shop Enzo brought me to when everything was right between us. I wonder, and not for the first time, what happened to the stuff he bought me. Most surely, he set them all on fire.

When the sales staff sees us, they flash big smiles. We’re regulars, coming here once a week. Dahlia doesn’t have a limit and we’re both big spenders, VIP customers.

“My treat,” I say, and for the next hour we try on dresses and shoes.

The driver picks up another set of bags and carries them to the car while I peruse the lingerie department. Wanting Enzo to lose his mind, I select five different items, then I follow Dalia to the purse section. She has an entire luxury bag collection, but her eyes sparkle at the newest model.

“Why don’t you buy it?” I ask her.

“I’ll receive it as a gift. Mika thinks he’ll get redemption for it, and I let him.” The sadness in her voice is so heartbreaking that I hug her, offering her my silent support.

“So, it’s solely platonic?”

I am very protective of her even if she’s not fragile, like Enzo and Mikail believe.

She just plays along so they can feel better about thinking they let her down then.

But I don’t think someone so sunshiny like her should be with a grump and the Pakhan—he’s a butcher in tailor-made suits. Not that I am anyone to judge.

“If it were up to him, yeah… I am the constant reminder of his biggest regret.”

Her eyes are lighter, everything is fairer, softer even though she and Enzo share similar physical traits. Their personalities are from two different worlds.

We spend the next hours at a spa getting a mani and pedi, a facial, a massage, and a blowout. Nothing compares to a day of getting pampered.

It’s dark by the time we return. We’ve never stayed out this long, but I am sure Tomaso informed Enzo of our whereabouts, and he can track me. I know he will be in a mood already.

The driver brings me home first and I wait for him to carry everything into the house. Hugging and kissing her cheek, I say, “See you tomorrow.”

She nods enthusiastically. We switch days between her physical training, her practicing the piano, and lounging by the pool or going out.

I enjoy spending time with her, and we’ve become very close. Being attuned to my feminine energy and sharing that with another woman, energizes me.

When I enter the house, Kill is waiting to greet me. He sniffs the contents of my bags before I rummage through my purse, handing him a treat.

“Good boy.”

“Yeah, spoil him some more. He’s more domesticated than a fucking poodle,” Enzo complains.

Oh yeah, he’s in a mood, just like I knew he would be.

Ignoring him, because I want him enraged tonight, I wait for Kill to finish his snack and show him the new ball I bought him. I make sure to give the dog all my attention before I throw the ball into the kitchen. He takes off, immediately returning it.

I don’t even get to blink before Enzo pushes my chest against the bar, my palms slapping against the hard surface.

“Am I fucking invisible?” he asks, nipping along my neck that has wetness pooling between my legs.

“What do you want? My pussy, my ass, my mouth, all three?” My voice breaks while my resolve hardens.

He loosens his grip on me and takes a step back.

“I am to be at your service, right?”

“You don’t seem to mind. How many fucking times do you come?” he snaps.

“It’s irrelevant,” I snap back.

“More than you can count before you pass out,” he snickers. As if it’s my fault he loves to make me come again and again.

“Had enough of me already, Enzo?”

This is my greatest fear. While this limbo is agonizing, at least it offers me some notion of security.

I am shaky on my feet while hope steels my spine.

Our love will prevail—bigger than his ego and hurt, overshadowing my mistake.

I need him to give us a second chance, to admit he hasn’t stopped loving me.

He stabs a finger in his chest. “I will never fucking have enough of you, you witch. You’re the poison I keep chugging down as if it’s holy water that can save my sin riddled body.”

“Who am I to you?” I ask, emotions overspilling, drowning us in this endless sea of agony.

“Turn around.”

I do, hoping he will give me something I can grasp and hold on to when he tries to pry me out of his chest. I wait with a bated breath for him to return with a Sharpie. They’re spread all over the house as we’ve fucked all over the place.

He lifts my skirt, his touch leaving a fiery need only he can make bearable.

The point digs into my skin as he writes something, and when he takes a step to the side, disappointment floods me. Witch. Enzo’s witch.

No woman, no love, no wife, no partner, no mother of his children. I’d rather he electrocute me then give him another piece of myself that he can discard as a ploy.

I’ve been his slut, his good girl, his property, and more. But I can’t do it any longer if he doesn’t give me what I deserve.

Silence stretches with a heavy tension that coils around us, trapping us in this vicious cycle.

“I love you,” I say, just in time for tears to gather in my eyes.

A butchered sound rocks his chest. “Never fucking say that again.”

I smile brokenly, not hiding my disappointment and torment.

“I’ve turned into a toy for you to use whenever you fucking want. You can punish me for loving you, but I won’t stop,” I say, tears cascading down my cheeks.

I don’t brush them away so he can truly see me—open, vulnerable, raw. If I didn’t know how his love feels, I wouldn’t have taken this side of him, hoping for my man to reveal himself.

Eyes burning with agony, he slams a fist into his chest. “What the fuck do you want from me, Luciana? I told you what would happen. You’re my property. You don’t want to be my slut anymore. Fine with me.”

I slap him to stop his vile words, intent on hurting me.

A hysterical laughter bubbles out of me.

“I bought lingerie today. I wanted to seduce you. In my stupid heart, I believed you would finally give me what I’ve been dying for…

but I will never get you or your love back.

Burn them and do whatever the fuck you want with me.

I am your whore and nothing else. I won’t forget my place from now on. ”