Page 53 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

Fuck it. Shooting the one from the left, I get down, sliding over the floor.

The other one misses. I don’t have time to reload, so I throw the gun aside.

He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, and we engage in a knife fight.

The knives slice through the air as we aim for the other, trying to find a spot to thrust in and cause a fatal injury.

I kick his away with my foot, but that doesn’t stop him.

He strikes out, hitting me square in the stomach, forcing the air from my lungs. Spitting blood at his feet, I go at him. Climbing up his chest, I drag him down, and he falls back to the ground with a thud. He recovers quickly, but I clench my thighs around his neck, suffocating him.

Snapping his neck, I roll off him and stand up, watching as Augustus tries to run away. Rushing to a discarded knife, I pick it up and throw it. It grazes his ear before it sticks into the door at his front.

“Lock the door and turn around, Augustus,” I sneer.

His hand brushes over his split ear and blood sticks to his fingertips. In his silk bathrobe, he looks like an old man with sagging skin and a pale complexion. Only in my head did I make him into something bigger than he is.

Taking a seat in his armchair, I wave my retrieved and reloaded gun through the air. He clenches his jaw, not liking my display of power.

He puffs his chest. “What is this about?”

That he dares to ask almost makes me lose my mind and kill him on the spot.

But I want him to suffer and hate every second he remains alive.

He blocked all my accounts. Only some cash in my hiding places remained.

He excommunicated me, killed my mother, sent me to a godforsaken orphanage, and made me into the assassin of my mother’s killer.

Each one enrages me to the point black spots dot my vision.

“I am here to kill you.”

“You wouldn’t dare. I made—–”

Pointing the gun at him, I shoot him in his right arm. His wails pierce the room—what lovely sounds to my greedy ears.

“The others will be here any moment now. I rang the alarm.”

“Good, it makes my job easier.”

His brown eyes become slits as he narrows them on me. People who have held onto their power until they believe they’re untouchable never understand what went wrong.

I gesture with my gun to the armchair across from his desk. “Sit, now.”

Satisfaction pumps my blood as he drops into the upholstered chair, bleeding on the antique piece of furniture.

“You won’t get away with this,” he grunts, holding onto his injured arm.

I know, but it’s irrelevant. He stole my future from me.

“I might go down, but I am taking you with me.”

I’ve ignored my bleeding wound, pulsing in my side. I don’t know how bad it is, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that I am injured. That’s why I sat down. I’ll make him bleed even worse.

I place my boots on his precious mahogany antique table in an obvious display of rebellion. His features tighten with pure fury.

I wave my hand in the air in a gesture that tells him I am losing my patience with him for dragging out time. “Confess, Augustus.”

“What—”

I shoot him in the other arm before lowering the gun and sighing as if he’s a disobedient child who I have given many chances to tell the truth.

“You’re demented,” he hisses, the color draining from his face.

I look him straight in the eyes while I aim and hit his knee.

He bends over, trying to stop the blood leaking from his wounds. A crimson stream trickles through his hands, pooling at his feet. He curses and cries. The sounds play in my ears a symphony of delayed justice.

“Confess, Augustus.”

He gnashes his teeth. “I should have left you to die in that car explosion.”

I show him the gun again, pointing it at his other knee.

He starts recounting the entire story of how he and Davide, Enzo’s father, wanted to expand, so they made a secret deal.

While he bleeds and tells me the story, I lean back, listening to the sordid tale of betrayal and deception while applying pressure to my wound.

“When he backed out, I waited and tipped off Igor to exact revenge. I thought to be done with them both once and for all.”

I’ve heard enough, so I push myself up, raise the gun and aim for his forehead.

Before he can say anything, I pull the trigger.

The bullet wheezes through the air, hitting him square in the middle of his forehead.

At the impact, his head flies back, watching me with open and unblinking eyes.

The hole instantly bleeds and stripes of scarlet run down his face.

An eerie silence follows.

The gun slips from my hand, clanking to the ground, but the sharp sound fails to pull me out of the trance.

I should feel relieved, but numbness spreads through me, rooting me in place.

This hit should have been the most satisfactory one, yet not even his death settles the debt. He took my life. I took his. But it feels like what I’ve lost can’t be repaid.

Outside the window, I notice the army that is heading my way. Venice will be on lockdown. With the cloak of night and the police rushing to their side, the public will never find out what truly happened here.

I look at his lifeless body one more time before I spit on his corpse.

Inhaling deeply, I open the door, ready to attack and die while fighting my way out, when I come face-to-face with Enzo. Dressed in all black, he exudes danger, looking pissed as hell. He pushes me back inside and locks the room.

I am too shocked to form words. Maybe my blood loss is too severe, and I am imagining things.

“I am so fucking mad at you,” he says and backs me into the next wall, slamming his mouth onto mine.

Surely, I must have died somewhere during the fights. His lips feel like a kiss from heaven.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, his intense eyes perusing every inch of me.

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter.” I wave his concern off.

He still checks, cursing under his breath when he locates the wound. He plucks something from his pocket. It’s a gauze, and he wraps it carefully around my belly.

“Another scar,” I sigh.

He shakes his head at me before he pulls me to his chest, kissing my forehead softly. “You’re fucking perfect. That’s what you are.”

I look up at him, and witnessing all the love shining in his eyes undoes me.

“Leave, Enzo.” The only person who will die tonight is me and my past.

“Not without you.”

Stubborn.

“There are more coming. I need you to focus on bringing us somewhere safe. You won’t die tonight. Fuck if I will allow you to die at all.”

His confidence, soaked with determination, warms my chest. My heart, which has been slowly withering away since I left him, blossoms back to life.

He takes a glance at Augustus. “I see you had your fun.”

“Your father knew.”

Disappointment etches on his stoic face. “I know.”

We can’t change the past and yet I want this to remain our secret. He and my brother manage to lead a joint organization, but with everything happening, their bond is being put to the test.

Guards are outside, their foot stomping and hushed conversations betray their positions as they try to get in.

Quickly, I press the panic button under the desk, and I drag him behind a statue that guards a wall leading to a corridor.

I can hear the men behind the walls, preparing explosives even though that won’t help either.

The dark, hidden passage brings us in behind them and Enzo and I open fire.

Bullets spit out in an endless trr . The twelve men drop dead.

High on the adrenaline that pumps through our blood, it sharpens our focus, making us feel invincible.

We fight for survival, taking as many guards down as we can.

Blood covers us, making it difficult to know if it’s ours or theirs.

Then, I guide him toward the tunnel that leads to a canal where an escape boat waits for us. Chests heaving, we exhale loudly as I navigate it.

In the distance, sirens ring out, but we have the night on our side, providing us cover.

I maneuver the boat through the canals while the water and streets fill with police and guards of the Council.

Stealthily, I dodge the danger with the engine running low, evading capture by not using any lights and bringing us to my safe house.

I don’t care about anything but stripping him bare to check how badly injured he is. When I see it’s only some reddish spots as the bulletproof shirt and pants did their job, I instantly calm down.

He does the same to me, but because of my actions, I look in worse shape, and blood oozes from the knife wound. It doesn’t matter. He came for me.