Page 9 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

It’s been one week, and my timeline is getting tighter with each passing day and no new attempt at killing him. The only genuine attempt was the first time.

There’s always something holding me back, though I can’t comprehend what that something is. I hate it, yet it’s not enough to push me to do it. That alone should motivate me to end him, but it’s the opposite.

There’s just something about him that stops me every damn time. I constantly remind myself why I have to kill him. He can’t be the one thing to stand in my way of following through and finding out the truth. It needs to happen soon so I can pack my things and fly back to Italy, where I belong.

This bustling city feels more like home than Venice.

Maybe it’s because no one cares who I am.

Everyone is too concerned about themselves and having a good time or moving along with their days.

I was smiled at more than in my entire life by total strangers.

Even if I stare them down, their smiles don’t falter.

What started as a mission has turned into a slight obsession. He’s the first thing popping into my head when I wake up and the last thought following me into sleep—this stupid man who doesn’t want to accept the reality that he’ll die and soon.

There’s an intimacy that weaves us into an intricate web, making me forget myself when he’s near me.

I’ve never needed anyone, and I’ve been cautious around people my entire life.

I have held them at arm’s length for as long as I can remember.

All I’ve ever wanted is to be alone, have my personal space, and be the ruler of my own life.

Yet I seek his presence like I need it. It’s beyond my understanding and truly disconcerting.

A wave of frustration drags me to the bottom of my anguish. I am fighting to escape with no success.

My phone rings, pulling me out of my wayward thoughts. Adamo’s name flashes, each ring striking my conscience. I don’t want to talk to him, but I refuse to let this scumbag have even the slightest impression I am not following through. He’s a snake, and I am sure he’ll love to see me fall.

“What do you want?” I ask with a bite, keeping my tone neutral.

“Is it done already?” His voice rings of impatience, grating on my nerves.

“It’s done when I say it is.”

A long silence follows, and he lets out a grumble that pisses me the fuck off.

“Are you slacking, Luciana? You have two more days, or the deal is off.”

He hangs up, and I stare at the phone in sheer incredulity. Throwing it on the sofa, I let out a cry choked full of despair.

My restlessness gets the better of me. I move to the window, once again indulging in my forbidden fixation, wanting to find out why Enzo has such a pull on me. He’s a man and that alone should have been enough reason to remain unaffected. He’s a target and that should have kept him impersonal.

One week later, I am butchering this job, failing spectacularly.

My training should have made me into someone who doesn’t care about casualties.

My ambition should have prevented him from having any control over me.

My vow of celibacy should have stopped me from even allowing him in my vicinity, let alone permit him to touch me and enjoy it.

We had dinner as if it were a regular thing.

We talked as if we were on a date, getting to know each other better.

He touched me as if it were his right. And like some starved for attention woman, some feeble creature led by hormones and curiosity, I soaked in the heat of his touch that seeped through my body and made me all achy.

This has to end. I am going crazy with each passing day. His nearness alters everything in me.

Picking up the binoculars, I see him getting ready for the day.

All I have to do is set my rifle and pull the trigger, and his blood would paint the leather of his car.

But it’s also bulletproof. I checked. I almost killed his men for not paying enough attention.

They’re supposed to protect the entrance to his garage and elevator, but I went in and out undetected.

I could shoot him when he enters his office building, but he deserves better. And that’s the problem. Now I am thinking of ways of killing him that are worthy of someone like him.

No one has cooked for me.

No one has treated me like a person.

No one has looked at me and seen through me—all I’ve been hiding. But it’s like he strips me bare, and I am left vulnerable, longing for something more.

For the first time, I feel like a woman who is desired, not for my looks but for the whole messed up package.

Men have wanted me as a status, as a body, as a simple tool to satisfy their ego and pleasure.

And that’s why none of them got me. Yet, with Enzo, there’s this strange desire to explore.

I can’t believe I’m contemplating letting a man touch me, kiss me, fuck me—something I swore I’d never allow.

But if I kill him afterward, it will forever be our secret.

Being Augustus’s protégé has offered me an almost untouchable status.

Plus, I’ve made a reputation for myself.

I killed a guard who dared to touch me as he passed by, right in front of Augustus and the Council of Twelve, just to make my point clear.

Augustus let that one slide, knowing it would give him even more control over the others.

Democracy is only in name. Everyone knows he’s the unofficial leader.

No one even approaches me, afraid of my wrath and my cunning ways.

It’s not only about what I do but how I do it.

The other members of the Council prefer to stay out of my way, giving me a wide berth while secretly they want me gone.

My attention shifts back to Enzo, incapable of withstanding his addictive allure.

He can wear a suit like no one else. He drips of money, the kind you make, not inherit.

He oozes an “I can kill you, so don’t cross me” vibe.

Reno is more peaceful than Venice, even though I’d never thought that possible.

He and Mikail have a tight grip on their city, and that’s impressive.

Something that doesn’t work anywhere else in the world, they make it happen. When Enzo’s out, it’s always with him, and you can see their bond, friendship mixed with brotherhood in every interaction.

Once he’s done for the day, he holes himself in his penthouse, ruling over his multiple businesses from his laptop. I wonder about him liking his solitude. Maybe to compensate for the public persona he presents. He’s wearing a mask too, but not having to juggle as many as I do.

Knowing he’s about to leave, I think of the explosive sitting in the safe, ready for me to use it. It has been taunting me, but I think it’s better for him to die in his beloved car. I am not so cruel after all.

With the plan in motion, I wait, knowing it will all end tomorrow morning. I hope he enjoys his last day on earth.

It will be hours before he comes back, so I use my time to get pampered.

I go shopping, buying some new dresses and lingerie. Then I go to the hotel spa where I get a massage and a facial. The service here is top-notch, and once they’re done with me, I look and feel way more refreshed.

By the time I return to my suite, the sun has long set. Darkness kisses the day farewell, and sinners get ready to take over, protected by the night.

I am about to go to bed when a knock sounds at my door, and I glance down at my silk negligee. A slow smile curves my lips. I’ll let him have a good look at me. He deserves something pretty to see before he sees nothing at all.

When I open the door, I put a hand on my thigh, the movement raising the skirt higher over my thigh. His eyes burn with a hunger he doesn’t even try to hide as he rakes those sinful greens all over my body, unleashing a cascade of goose bumps to trickle all over my skin.

“Waiting for me?” he asks in that deep, husky voice of his filled with self-assurance.

It does the strangest things to me––makes me feel beautiful even though I know I am strictly aesthetically pleasing.

I’ve done nothing to earn it, so until this moment, my looks felt more like a nuisance.

But under his intense gaze, I love how I can wield my beauty to captivate him.

I own all his attention and it’s so heady I could get drunk on the surge of power.

I don’t answer as I turn around, giving him permission to come inside. He’s staring at my ass, not even trying to conceal it when I peer at him over my shoulder. Goddamn it, Luciana, he might very well be here to kill you while you try to do what exactly? Seduce him?

“What do you want?” I snap, losing my composure. He rattles me so easily. No wonder I am all over the place.

“I thought we were beyond that.” He sighs and closes the door. The click has a final quality to it, as if he has trapped us and there’s no escape.

Do I run? Do I find the first gun to kill him? No. I just stare at him, leaving a freaking man to lead.

“And disillusioned,” I scoff.

He turns predatory, walking over to me while I step back until he backs me against the window—the same window I stalk him from.

“Am I? Hmm, I missed my shadow today.” He brushes his nose along my cheek, down my neck and places the softest kiss on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, making me weak in the knees.

“I haven’t reconsidered.”

“No, of course not,” he says in a fake gravelly tone that pulls a giggle out of me.

It’s that foreign sound coming out of me that has me leaping out of his sensual trap. My heart pounds a merciless rhythm and I palm it to make it stop—stop betraying me.

I walk straight to the table and pick up my glass of wine, gulping it down.

“Why are you here?” I ask once my nerves and the butterflies settle.

“Wanted to see if you’re all right.” He shrugs, as if checking on me is the most normal thing in the world. That takes me by surprise so much that no words come out.

As if it’s his place, which it technically is, he takes another glass and places it down on the table. Then, he sits down on the plush armchair with one leg crossed over the other, looking like a king on his throne, waiting for his offering—me.

He cocks his head, his eyes never leaving mine.

“What are we doing here, Luciana?”

“I don’t know,” I say and approach him, my knees bumping into his.

He sets his legs down, spreading them, and I settle myself between them.

Gently, he brushes his fingers behind the back of my knees, climbing up inch by amazing inch, torturing me with a scintillating promise.

He plays with the hem of my dress, and a small moan tumbles out of my mouth. I need to support myself or this overload of sensations will cause me to faint. So, I place my hands on his shoulders, his body cocooning mine, making me feel safe.

“You’re so beautiful, I fucking ache. I could stare at you every second of every minute of every fucking day, and I doubt I’d have enough.”

“I made a vow,” I say, trying to get myself together, “of celibacy.”

“Interesting. Why?”

“Because no man is worthy of touching me.”

His throat rumbles with a groan. “My Silver Death, I am touching you just now.”

He even claims me. Put an end to this madness.

I am about to move when he pulls me to him by my waist, trapping me between his hard chest and his iron arms. He strokes down my back, lulling me to give in. He’s the devil himself, taking human form to make me want to break my vow.

“It will be a pity…” I exhale deeply, the sound laced with sadness.

“Yeah, but until then, let’s enjoy the silence together.”

That’s what we do for long minutes as I rest my head on his shoulder, and we watch the lights of the city dance over the skyline.

“Why don’t you let anyone close to you?” I ask him.

He stops caressing me for a moment before he resumes his ministrations.

“They can be taken away. Death is the only sure thing in our world.”

The answer guts as it heals me. I can understand his reasoning.

I draw patterns on his chest, caring only about touching him.

“There can’t be anything else… it would be…” There are so many words that could fit our predicament.

“Complicated,” he starts.

“Messy.”

“Unavoidable.”

“Impossible,” I finish, reaching over to grab the bottle of wine on the table. I pour some into his glass and refill mine.

“I wouldn’t mind if, in the end, it will be you,” he says, taking a sip.

Cocking his head, he smirks as if satisfied with whatever he thinks about, making me want to pick his brain apart, pry him open and reveal the mystery of why he has such a chokehold on me. Maybe he’s a wizard who put a spell on me, making it impossible for me to resist him.

“Why?” I breathe out through the pressure on my lungs.

“You’d always remember and ask yourself what if. You’d have it worse. I’d be dead. No more thoughts, no more struggles, no more memories.”

“You give yourself too much credit. It seems to me you’re thinking we could somehow be together.”

“Mm-hmm, sure. You’ll see. I will haunt your days and nights even more.”

“Why did you come tonight?” I ask, needing to change the subject rather than delving into what-ifs.

What would it be like to be free of the shackles you were born with?

A life that’s more than blood, deceit, power.

No wonder I feel like someone I am not when he’s near me, as if he’s speaking to a person I could have been but didn’t have the chance to become.

“Couldn’t stay away.”

I feel the truth of his words reverberating through my insides, tugging at my heartstrings as if it is his instrument—so honest, so damn in my face with what he thinks, with what he wants. It’s refreshing that I forget myself around him, allowing myself to be just a woman with her man.

“Which is idiotic. What kind of future would we have?” he says so low. It’s a mere mutter, but I’ve heard him.

I instantly freeze.

He sighs, placing me gently back on my feet. “Don’t worry, Luciana. Just thinking out loud.”

He stands up, and I watch him walk to the door. His hand reaches for the handle, and he looks at me over his shoulder. “I guess we’ll never find out. Quite a pity. You would have been the only woman I’d make the queen of my empire. My counterpart in everything.”

He’s cruel. So utterly cruel to dangle in front of me the biggest lie possible, presented as a dream. I could never be his because I signed my life over a long time ago. What he says is just a deception, a tactic to bend me to his will and make me falter and fail.

When he’s gone, I take a deep dive into nostalgia, imagining for agonizing minutes how it would have been if we were other people. We’re not though, and this is the life we’ve been dealt with. The stakes are getting higher—I can’t risk my heart.

But I’m afraid I already lost it to him.

I’ll never forget you, you strange, complex, madly captivating man.