Page 8 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

Did I forget? No. But I was busy with other things at that moment, like wanting to fuck Luciana on the hood of my car.

“Nothing happened.”

His heavy breathing shows how mad he is.

“At least you’re not a complete moron. Still, it will leave a bruise, especially from so close.

Next time, she should aim for your head because it’s useless.

What should I have written on your tombstone?

Too stupid to live has a ring to it, but again, we need to preserve a shred of dignity, as apparently you fucking forgot who you are. ”

He’s pissed, and leave it to him to pour a bucket of reason over my head.

“She won’t kill me… You don’t get it.” I sigh, knowing it’s impossible to make him understand. Everything I say will sound as if I’ve lost it.

“There are things you don’t do. Limits you don’t fucking cross, even if you’re dying to do so. I get it. What it would be like to indulge in the forbidden for just fucking once… but we don’t get to have everything, Enzo. So pull your head out of your ass.”

He hangs up, and fuck, I know he’s right. Though I have no clue what it is that my best friend wants that he can’t have. We share fucking everything, and I thought there were no secrets between us.

I’m too riled up to go to him and we have a meeting tomorrow, so I drive back home.

Once inside, I call her suite. It’s not the first time either.

“Hungry?”

“I tried to kill you.”

I can’t help the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Tried being the operative word.”

She groans. “You’re impossible.”

“And failed. Again. I wonder why. But I don’t think you’re ready to accept the truth, so let’s move past your latest failed attempt.”

“What is wrong with you?” she asks, a mix of worry and confusion laced in her tone.

“Hmm, wouldn’t it be stupid to trust the woman who wants me dead with all my secrets?”

“I’d keep them safe.” Her voice softens, and she must realize that because she hangs up.

She will come.

I set the table that sits by the window in the open concept kitchen and living room, adding another plate and a glass of wine. Then I call downstairs to have my men let her in.

It doesn’t take long until she appears wearing high-heeled sandals that make her long legs appear endless.

She’s dressed in a leather skirt and a shirt, a combination that’s stylish and edgy and suits her well.

She takes everything in with curious eyes, approaching me cautiously.

Between the two of us, her self-preservation instinct is way more evolved.

“I am not a backstabber, Luciana. I invited you for dinner, not to ambush you.”

“You could try.”

“You don’t have to be strong with me. I wear masks too.”

Being truthful with her is beyond my comprehension or maybe my tongue loosens when knowing my life could end any second.

“I… You don’t know me.” She watches me with those ensnaring eyes that make me want to reveal everything to her.

“No, I don’t. But we are all ordinary when it comes to what makes us tick.

Biological creatures who try to appear more civilized than we truly are.

We’re animals… We can wear thousand-dollar clothes and accessories that cost more than is morally appropriate, but when we get naked, we can’t hide that simple truth. ”

“It’s easy for you. You’re a man.” She scowls but follows me to the kitchen.

I take out the ingredients I’ll use to prepare dinner.

The need to know more about her and discover what makes her tick pushes me to ask. “You have a problem with all men? Men in general? Me in particular?”

“The world was shaped by your will.”

“We bent it to ours and yet, every man throughout history surrendered to his weakness, and that’s always been to and for a woman. A particular woman who, in most cases, shaped history in her own will.”

“So you just admit that?”

“It would be foolish to deny the universal truth.”

Luciana appears more at ease as she approaches the marble island and takes a seat on the high bar stool.

I put the pasta in the boiling water and move to make the creamy sauce for my fettucine Alfredo.

“You cook? Afraid someone will try to poison you?” A playful smile teases her lips as she watches me, getting more comfortable and less guarded, which is a great sign.

I cock a brow at her. “You wouldn’t be so unimaginative.”

“But it would be efficient,” she smiles brightly.

For a moment my chest clenches, tightening around my heart.

“Red, white, rosé?” I ask, already knowing wine is her poison, forgetting I should have asked what she wants to drink from the beginning. I can’t think straight around this woman.

“Red.”

I move to the bar, and she follows me with her eyes until they stop at my record player. After I pour two glasses, I gesture for her to pick whatever she likes. She brushes a finger over my vast album collection that occupies half the wall until she settles on one.

With soft music playing in the background, she takes her glass and moves toward the window, leisurely sipping her drink while I set the timer for the pasta to cook.

“I think I will miss this,” she says, then frowns as if that simply slipped out of her mouth.

“Do you have anyone in your life who you can truly be yourself with?” I ask, making my way to her.

Stopping at her back, I stare at our reflections in the window. Even in heels, she only reaches my chin. I know full well what she’s capable of, yet all I want to do is protect her, keep her safe—with me.

“Trusting someone is stupid. I can’t afford that,” she whispers as our eyes lock.

“You must lead a lonely life then,” I say. “Warning, I’m going to hug you now.”

I wrap my arms around her, and serenity envelops me. It’s the most natural thing for me to touch and hold her. Fuck if I know what this is, but I can’t stop myself.

She’s stiff in my arms, and I anticipate her pushing me away at any moment now. When she doesn’t, instead relaxing, it’s the best feeling I’ve ever experienced—elated, that’s what I am. I still remember how she threatened me, yet my arms are locked around her belly, her back flush against my chest.

“You’re one to talk. I haven’t even seen a woman coming or going from here.” She plays it off as she molds her body against mine.

“I don’t mean that, and we both know it. And was that a note of jealousy I detected?”

“You’re so full of yourself. I just don’t want to kill bystanders,” she grumbles.

“So gracious of you,” I say, not hiding my smile.

She rolls her eyes and slips from my embrace, returning to the island. The emptiness is so sudden. She can try to put distance between us, but she won’t succeed.

“Why don’t you go to the compound?” she asks, following my every move as I continue cooking.

“My family is off limits.” My voice turns colder, wanting her to understand my one true hard limit. “Do we understand each other? We can play, pretend. Fuck knows how this will end, but don’t go there.”

“I have no family. A fact I am sure you know, so let’s get one thing straight. I am not a killer of innocents. I don’t have it out for your family. I am here—” She gulps as if not being able to say it.

“For me. So what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice softens and the corners of her mouth pull down. “You want honesty… It’s strange, but I’ll have to kill you. Even if it won’t please me as much as I like to pretend.”

There’s an apology written on her face as she shrugs. I walk toward her, not asking for permission but giving her enough time to take a step back and stop me. She doesn’t, and I cup her cheek.

“Tell me what it is you want in exchange?” What is this compulsion to give her everything she desires?

Her brows furrow in obvious confusion. “Why would you help me?”

“Not dying would be a good incentive.” I try to downplay it, not wanting to scare her with how strongly I feel about her.

My thumb strokes across the smoothest skin I’ve ever touched. She sighs, but leans into my touch.

“I don’t like you. At all. I should kill you just for that.”

I don’t say what we’re both aware of. Instead, I brush my nose against hers, our lips so close it would take only one inch, and then I’d have a taste of surely the most exquisite and fatal pleasure.

I know with every fiber of my being that one taste will never be enough and that will be the cause of my death. But that doesn’t stop me.

The timer goes off, and she leaps away.

Clearing her throat, she takes a step back, and I return to the stove, finishing up preparing dinner. I glare at the kitchen clock. Never in my life have I wanted to dismantle an inanimate object.

Melting the butter and cream together, I season and stir before tossing the pasta in the cheese sauce. Then, I distribute the meal between two round plates.

We carry our plates to the table, and we dig into the creamy pasta.

With the dim lights and the soft music, it appears like we’re on a romantic date.

I’ve cooked for no one else before, but it’s different with her. I don’t even bother questioning why.

“It’s good.” She hums softly and takes another forkful.

I sip from my glass, raising a brow. “Just good?”

She pins me with a serious look. “You keep surprising me. Your arrogance, though, is nothing new.”

I chuckle. It’s refreshing how she challenges and antagonizes me, taunts and tantalizes me. I think I’ve met my match.

“Does it hurt?” she asks, glancing at my chest as we finish up.

I unbutton my shirt and her eyes lower with every inch I uncover, gulping. It takes everything in me to tone down my smirk.

She comes to my side and palms the reddish spot. It will leave a bruise. Even though the jacket stopped the bullet, I am not exempt from feeling the discomfort that is instantly forgotten. Her touch heats me up as if a fever overtakes my body.

“But you knew,” I say, my hoarse voice betraying how affected I am. Leaning back, my eyes fix on her.

Her finger glides down my chest, her nail scratching with the clear intent to leave her mark. “Oh, Enzo. I’d have to kill you before I confirm that.”

Enraptured by her, I watch her sashaying toward the elevator, my gaze stuck on her ass—round and perky. I want to bite into each cheek, mark her, and make her mine. But that is wishful thinking.