Page 32 of King of Obsession

Anything for my woman.

And he has to ruin it again.

Another knock interrupts my breakfast. My stomach growls in rebellion, and my patience is thinner than a piece of paper, yet I plaster on a fake smile. I’ve learned quickly that a woman’s smile can disarm any man.

But when I open the door, my smile quickly vanishes at who’s standing on the other side. Mikail Morozov, the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva and Enzo’s best friend and business partner.

He has such cold features I half expect winter to blow a frosty storm my way.

Silver eyes clash in a battle of wills. He can’t intimidate me, yet he brushes past me hard enough to cause me to stumble. I catch my feet in time and steady myself.

Neither of us speaks as he enters like he owns the place.

Cocking his head, he stares at the bullets.

“Enzo’s still alive. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be breathing either,” he says in a detached, neutral voice, but the threat is clear.

Unbuttoning his jacket, he takes a seat and gestures for me to continue eating. Do they spoon feed these men arrogance at breakfast, lunch, and dinner?

I sit in my chair, facing him, patting the gun strapped under the table. “I guess this is not a social visit.”

“Hands where I can see them. I shoot first and ask later.”

Scoffing, I place both my palms on the table, returning to eat my omelet. I must have consumed a lot of energy because I devour everything on the plate.

“He fucked you,” he says, almost disappointed.

“What gave me away?” I ask in a sweet voice laced with sarcasm.

“And he spent the night. He’s never done that before… which begs the question? Is it his dick or his charming personality that, despite all the opportunities you’ve had, he’s still breathing and so are you?”

“None of your business.”

He clicks his tongue. “Now, that is where you’re wrong. It is my business when my partner has apparently lost his fucking mind, and the Council’s killer is in my damn city.”

He stands up and strides toward me. Slamming both palms on the table, he bends over, leaning into me. In response, I grip my knife, and his sharp eyes move from where I have my hand back to my face.

“Try it. Give me the excuse I need to fucking end your life.” He doesn’t need to raise his voice for it to drip with authority. “If Enzo dies, I will leave a trail of blood behind you. You won’t be able to count the bodies. I will dismantle the Council and everything you hold dear. Don’t mess with me, Luciana.”

I realize the difference between Enzo and him. No wonder they complement each other so well. The former is more charming and more subtle in his violence. Mikail loves and embraces it, waiting to strike and feed his empty soul. I believe him.

“You can try.” I have my poker face on and don’t let him see that his words affect me. What if the worst-case scenario happens? Am I willing to sacrifice my world for a piece of information? I’ll be known for the rest of time as the one who failed and brought the Council’s demise.

“Then help your friend give me what I want, and I’ll be gone. I’ll never even set foot in Reno again.”

He walks away and at the door he stops, not even bothering to look back.

“If Enzo said he’ll find it, he will, but you’re the type of person who has no god, no faith. You will be your own demise.”

An arctic wind blows through my insides, freezing me instantly.

I should pack my things and torture the information out of Adamo, and then all my problems will be solved.

As if my morning wasn’t already bad, my phone rings and just as my luck would have it, it’s Adamo.

His nasal voice soaked in superiority hits my ears. It immediately puts me in the place of mind where I’d very much like to strangle the life out of him.

Rules, Luciana. Obey the fucking rules. You know you can’t kill him.

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