Page 92 of King of Omen

My breath caught in my throat. ‘Tony? He’s just a friend,’ I replied, puzzled by his reaction. ‘He was delivering my textbooks for university.’

‘A friend? One you walked hand in hand with, kissing and hugging on the street not so long ago,’ Lorenzo growled. His bass was so resonant, cold and hard that it sent shards of fear through me. ‘I don’t think so.’

My world spun out of control, and I struggled for breath.

After a beat of staring at him, I found my tongue. ‘How the fuck do you know about him kissing me?’ I demanded.

Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed on me, heated, scorching.

‘Damn, you’ve been spying on me?’ I whispered as a cold wave of trepidation hit. ‘The kiss happened some time back, and I’ve never kissed him since. That night, I told him we’d never be more than just friends, and soon after, he left. Fuck, how did you know about it?’

‘You don’t grasp it, bella,’ he snapped, icy and calculated, ignoring my question. ‘I don’t like sharing. I don’t like it when you do things behind my back. You owe me an explanation, Mia.’

He took a step closer, looming over me. ‘I want to understand everything about him. Who he is, what he does, how he got into your life. I want all the details, woman. Immediatamente.’

‘What if I don’t want to tell you?’

‘I’ll make you,’ he growled and nabbing my waist, he crashed his mouth on me.

It was a rough, angry, searing kiss, and I fought back. I sank my teeth into his lips, and with a groan, he pulled back for a moment, then dove in once more, kissing me even harder.

Until my fists on his chest drummed through his furore.

He let me go with a curse, the weight of his ire falling on me, his scorn and disappointment seeping out like poison.

‘You’re playing with fire,’ he warned, his words sharp and cold, his heated breath washing over me. ‘You’re aware of what happens when you tangle with a Calibrese.’

Fear and confusion warred in my heart, my mind spinning with thoughts and questions.

‘Are you threatening me, Lorenzo? How dare you?’ I gritted, twisting away from him. ‘You’ve been stalking me, it sounds like, and now you’re making assumptions and refusing to believe my word. Well, fuck you, Lorenzo. Or shall I call you creeper?’

He lurched, and I tagged the intense hurt in his eyes as my anger thrust out of me in a hot gust. My soul shattered like it’d been torn apart and flung into nothingness.

‘I saw the kiss,’ he hissed. ‘When I came by your apartment after arriving in Sydney, wanting to see you, to thank you for your beautiful note to me.’

Guilt hit me. I’d landed a blow without understanding the context.

My self-recrimination was mixed with some elation at the thought that he’d come looking for me as soon as he touched down in Australia.

‘But why didn’t you say anything before?’ I asked, my voice quivering.

He shrugged, his eyes never leaving mine. ‘I didn’t have a clue how involved you and he were. I also left because I couldn’t stomach him kissing you. I hoped it was a fleeting encounter and didn’t think to address it, but seeing him here today made me wonder how long you’ve been fucking him.’

I gasped, unable to believe what he’d just said.

Lorenzo trucked on, cold wrath raging on his face. ‘Damn, I bet you he doesn’t deserve it; he has no clue of your worth. But if your feelings are gone for him, I’ll fall back. Would you prefer that?’

His growl was pained, hard-edged, unrelenting.

‘Lorenzo, listen to me,’ I said, my heart aching at the agony in his eyes. ‘He is my housemate’s cousin. I’ve never encouraged him. He was doing me a favour, dropping off textbooks essential for this week’s paper. He was the best person to find what I needed and bring it here. I asked him in for a coffee to thank him, nothing less, nothing more.’

He stared at me for a long moment, eyes still aflame.

After a beat, he straightened, pushing a hand through his hair. ‘I’m going to need more than your word,’ he clipped.

I tamped down my rage. ‘You don’t believe me. Paranoid much?’

‘Wouldn’t you be, Mia, cara?’ he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. ‘I’ve had two assassination attempts, parents killed in a car bomb, and never-ending targets hunting my family. I’m used to people knifing me in the back. My life is an ongoing reminder that pessimism always wins. If you don’t get that, then you don’t understand the reality I live in.’