Page 49 of Veil of Obsession
I grit my teeth and pull out my phone, fingers flying over the screen as I send Jade a message.
Me
Hey, where are you?
Her reply comes back quickly, and I feel the blood drain from my face.
Jade
I’m at work. What’s up?
She’s not home. Fuck.
The cab’s already driven off, leaving me stranded in the cold, alone—or so I think.
I slowly descend the steps, and the moment I reach the last step, I turn my entire body back to face the apartment door, trying to figure out my next move when I feel it. The heat of a presence behind me. The weight of a stare. A prickle at the back of my neck.
I know who it is before I even look. I whirl around, breath catching in my throat, and there he is.
Lucio.
He stands a few feet away, shoulders relaxed, but his gaze is anything but that. It’s dark. Heavy. Unforgiving.
His hands are tucked into his coat pockets, his sharp jaw tight, his mouth a thin line. The dim street light casts golden shadows over his face, highlighting every sharp angle, every dark promise etched into his expression.
I take a step back. Big mistake. Because his eyes drop to my heels, to the way my breath heaves in my chest, and something flickers across his features. Something dangerous.
“Leaving so soon, Princess?” he murmurs, voice low, smooth, lethal.
I swallow, forcing my face into a mask of indifference even as heat licks at my spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His head tilts slightly, a slow, amused smirk creeping onto his lips. “You don’t? That’s funny, because you were just watching me from across the bar, weren’t you?”
Busted.
I lift my chin, feigning confusion. “Why would I do that?”
Lucio doesn’t answer right away. He steps closer, slow and deliberate, his presence overpowering in the dark alley.
“You tell me.”
The space between us tightens, the air crackling. My back hits the brick wall before I even realize I’ve been moving, and he closes in, pressing one hand flat against the wall beside my head.
The other? He lifts his phone, screen tilted toward me. My text.
Little Stalker
Drinking all alone, I see.
My throat goes dry when he sends a text and my phone lets out a small vibration.
Lucio chuckles, but it lacks any humor. “Not very careful, are you?”
I should be afraid. But I’m not. Because the moment he crowds me, the second his scent wraps around me—whiskey, smoke, leather—I know exactly what this is.
He’s testing me. Pushing me. Waiting to see if I’ll break.
So I don’t. Instead, I let my lips curve into a slow, knowing smile.
