Page 24 of Veil of Obsession
He studies me for a beat, too long, eyes dark and dissecting. “What do you want, Princess?”
I take a breath, keeping my voice light. “Are you going to the Maronis’ Charity Ball?”
His gaze sharpens—just a flicker, but I catch it. “Why?”
I let my shoulders rise in a casual shrug. “Just curious. Everyone in the city will be there, after all. I imagine you’d want a presence.”
His fingers tap against the armrest of his chair. “I don’t make a habit of throwing myself into rooms full of politicians and socialites.”
“Funny,” I say, tilting my head. “I thought that’s exactly what you do.”
His smirk is slow, lazy, but his eyes are still sharp. “And I thought you hated parties.”
I match his expression. “Maybe I’m feeling social.”
He hums, swirling the glass in his hand. “You’re playing a game, but I haven’t figured out which one yet.”
A prickle of tension slides down my spine, but I don’t let it show.
“Me?” I press a hand to my chest in mock offense. “That hurts, Uncle Stefano.”
He doesn’t laugh. Instead, he leans forward, elbows on his desk, voice dropping into something quieter meant just for me.
“I see things, Princess. I seeyou. You’ve been watching people too closely. Slipping away when you think no one notices. Getting lost in your own head. And now, suddenly, you care about who’s going to be at a charity ball?”
The room feels smaller. The air, thinner.
He watches me like a predator waiting to see if its prey will run. I keep my face still, my breath steady.
“I like to know what’s happening in the city I live in.”
My uncle doesn’t blink. “No. You like control.”
Something cold curls in my stomach, but I hide it. Instead, I let out a slow, amused smile pull at my lips.
“Well…” I say, standing, brushing imaginary lint from my sleeve. “That makes two of us.”
I can feel his eyes on me as I move toward the door.
“Princess.”
I pause, but don’t turn around.
His voice is soft, but there’s steel beneath it. “Whatever it is you’re planning…don’t be stupid.”
I lift my chin. “When have I ever been stupid?”
Silence. I don’t wait for an answer.
I step out of the office, my heart pounding, but my expression neutral. And as I walk through the halls of his estate, past thesilent guards and crates of weapons, the weight of my uncle’s warning lingers in my chest.
Uncle Stefano knows something. And I need to be careful.
9
Lucio
Ishift the deck of poker cards, the rhythmic snap of each shuffle filling the quiet space of my apartment. The city lights bleed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows over the room. Matteo leans back in his chair, expression flat, fingers tapping lazily against the table. He looks like he couldn’t care less about anything being said, but I know better. He’s listening. He always is.
