Twisted Obsession (Underworld Kings)

He is no longer a Boss seeking revenge looking at me.

He is not a man hellbent on making my life hell in the reflection.

Instead, I see him.

Enzo de Rossi.

A broken-hearted son.

The man I’m falling for.

And deep down, I wish, I pray, and I bargain with God, for him to love me back.

I'm nervous.

I haven't been in a gathering like this since I was a child, and even then, I had my father to protect me. Even though Enzo has claimed me, I don't know how he'd react if they were to taunt me with their jeers.

I'm still in enemy territory, and the man in charge hates my family to the point of obsession. A twisted obsession that's grown over the years. As the car moves up the drive, I'm speechless at the beautiful estate that we're on. I take in every glimpse I can get, until we stop outside a three-story home that is lit up in soft yellow light.

The black, wrought-iron balconies on the first and second floors are sculpted in the shape of vines, while the doors that lead out offer up a welcoming shimmer of gold. Enzo opens my door and offers me his hand which I gratefully accept.

"Thank you." Every time he touches me my skin warms, and my blood heats in my veins. My heart pitter patters, reminding me of just what kind of effect he has on me. Even though I try to tamp it down, I can't. It's a losing battle. And that scares me.

"Tonight, you're mine. Any time someone speaks to you, you reply with grace and elegance, but if any of these men touch you, come to me. I will make sure they understand the error of their ways."

"You mean kill them?" I challenge easily. With every comment I throw at him, I notice how Enzo's stare darkens and how his mouth tilts into a wolfish grin. It's as if he's counting each of my missteps and logging them for use later on. If I'm right, I'm in for the punishment of a lifetime.

"That's for me to know," he informs me before we step into the house. Mario is behind us, along with the other guy, Thiago, who had accompanied us to the store when I got this dress. The sleek, floor-length black material hugs my curves. A slit runs from my ankle to my upper thigh. In front, the dip between my small breasts opens all the way down to my belly button. With long-sleeves, I'm warm, but still shiver when a few of Enzo's soldiers take me in with hungry gazes.

Enzo told me this was meant to be an engagement party, but I'm not stupid. I have a feeling this has a lot more to do with Valentino and the death of his father's lawyer than our upcoming nuptials.

He leads me through the house which I take in silently. When he leans in, he whispers, "I haven't been back here since I found my parents killed in my father's office." I don't look at him, but the pain in his words lances my chest. "It's easier that I'm not alone."

His admission has me snapping my attention to him. He's looking straight ahead, but I've stopped, causing him to turn toward me. The way his dark eyes flicker, hurts my heart. I don't know when I became so in tune with him, but it's as if his pain is mine.

"Why did you want to have this party here?" I whisper, but I know the two men behind us can hear every word. Mario's stare burns through me, and the reminder of what he said to me when I first arrived at the penthouse rings in my mind perhaps you can change the man he is.

"We all have to move on from our past," Enzo admits. "It's not easy, not by any means," he says before cupping my cheek. "But if we're brave enough, there might be more to this life."

"You can't go from hating me one day to feeling something the next," I inform him, still unable to believe that a man like him can change. Maybe I'm not giving him the benefit of the doubt, perhaps it’s fear, me holding onto those first few days I spent around him. Whatever it is, I need him to know that the whiplash is exhausting.

Enzo nods slowly. "I know. I didn't say I love you, little dancer, but my anger is slowly dissipating." He smiles. "Tonight, I will introduce you as my fiancée. The woman who will become queen in my family, so I expect you to act like it." And the asshole is back.

"Understood," I sass, with a coy smile. We make our way into the living room which leads out onto a patio. The furnishings are antique, with dark wood and brown fabrics. Everything about the space screams money, with gilded chandeliers dripping with diamonds and paintings that I'm sure cost more than an average person earns in one year.