Page 129 of Veil of Obsession
The words are so quiet, so fragile, that I almost think I imagined them.
Then she says it again, her breath shuddering. “Lucio… You need to give me up.”
Something inside me snaps. I grip the wheel harder, my jaw tight, my entire body wired with anger and something worse—something dangerous.
“Shut up.”
She lets out a choked sob, shaking her head. “You know I’m right.”
“I said shut the fuck up, Princess.”
She presses her fingers into her temples, her voice breaking. “They’ll never forgive you. They’ll kill you, Lucio. You’re their family, and they’ll still?—”
I slam my hand against the dashboard, my voice a growl. “You don’t know what the hell you’re saying.”
She flinches, her tears spilling faster, but she doesn’t stop. “You can still fix this. You can still go back?—”
I whip my head toward her, my hands gripping the wheel so tight my knuckles go white. “And do what? Hand you over so they can rip you apart? Let them carve you up piece by fucking piece? You think that’s gonna fix anything?”
She shakes her head, her face twisted in grief, in guilt, in something raw. “I don’t want you to die for me.”
I let out a harsh breath, my chest burning, my pulse pounding in my ears.
I don’t tell her the truth. I don’t tell her that I would. That I already fucking chose her over them. That I won’t regret it. That even now, even when she’s trying to beg me to save myself at her expense, I can’t fucking do it.
Because she’s mine. Mine to protect. Mine to keep. Mine to fucking fight for.
So I say nothing. I just keep driving, keep my hands on the wheel, keep my focus on the road, because if I look at her—if I see the way she’s falling apart—I might fucking break with her.
The silence stretches. Long. Heavy. Suffocating.
Then the headlights appear. Two sets. One from the left, one from the right.
I spot them too late.
Fuck.
They move fast, cutting us off, forcing me to slam the brakes, the tires screeching as the car skids across the pavement.
I barely stop before colliding. My pulse slams into my ribs, my fingers tightening around the wheel, my jaw locked as I realize this is it.
I don’t have to look at the license plates. I already fucking know.
The Camorra. My brothers.
The driver’s side door of the first car swings open, and Emiliano steps out. Behind him, Romiro.
I glance at the second car. And Romiro steps out. Emiliano’s most trusted Camorrista.
They didn’t just come to find me. They came to end this.
Princess sucks in a sharp breath beside me, her body rigid, her nails digging into her thighs.
I don’t look at her. I keep my eyes on Eli.
Because I already know…
This is about to get very fucking ugly.
