Page 7 of My Sweetest Obsession

Miguel

No Davina.

“What do you want in life?” I asked Winter.

“Um.” She hesitated, clearly taken off guard by the question. “I’ve always wanted to play in a symphony.”

“Oh, yeah?” I raised an eyebrow. “What else?”

“Well, let’s see,” she mused, turning slightly to face the door, appearing lost in thought. “I want to get married and have at least three kids, a dog, and a quiet house in the country with a white porch swing.”

“Not much of a city girl, huh?” I teased.

She shook her head that still rested on my chest, her hair brushing against my arm. “Not really. I like the quiet.”

“I want to be the one to give you all those things,” I said sincerely.

I jolted awake, my heart pounding as the memory flooded my mind.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

“She’s strong,” Dante said.

“What?” I asked.

“Gigi. You said her name.”

I nodded. My angel—the very crux of my dreams and nightmares.

“You love her.”

“Yes,” I confessed. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to earn her forgiveness.”

Dante nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “Let’s hope for your sake that her father will allow you the opportunity to do so.” He smirked, his gaze shifting to the window, the clouds beginning to break as we descended.

I scoffed internally. Nothing—absolutely nothing—would stand in the way of getting to my angel. She was mine, destined to reign beside me like the queen she was meant to be.

I glanced over at Luca, who was out cold, his head lolling to one side like a bobblehead. With a mischievous grin, I grabbed the water bottle the attendant left for me and launched it at him, hitting him square in the chest.

“What the hell?” He shot up, eyes wide as he caught the bottle before it could land on the floor.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” I teased. “We’re landing.”

“It’s about time,” he groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “This has been the longest fucking flight ever.”

“And just think, you have to do it all over again when we fly back to the States,” Dante chimed in.

“Fuck me,” Luca sang out in annoyance.

The moment we stepped off the plane, a swarm of black cars with tinted windows surrounded us, and men with guns who were already on the tarmac pointed them in our direction.

I halted on the steps, instinctively bracing myself as I surveyed the scene.

“The fuck,” Luca exclaimed, colliding with my back.

“Not the greeting I was expecting.” I shot a glance at Dante, who was behind Luca. His calm demeanor only heightened my anxiety.

“I warned you,” Dante replied.