Page 2 of Forbidden Obsession

Corniquea Hills Suburbs

A flicker of light gave me pause as I turned into the driveway of my three-story mansion. But I knew the intruder inside my home was friend and not foe. To even enter Corniquea Hills, a retina scan was mandatory. The suburbs housed politicians, capos, and me—the underboss. Security was tighter than the Pentagon, and unless you carried someone’s head who had access it was impossible to get inside.

I hit the button on the garage door, and when it lifted, a black sports car rested in my parking space.

Dameon—my father.

I inhaled, checked the time, and pulled into the vacant spot reserved for guests.

I exited the car and slammed the door, now dressed in a dark gray short-sleeved crew neck T-shirt, blue jeans that rode my solid cut hips, and dark gray buckled combat boots. The bloody black gear I had worn for my visit to the cathedral had already been discarded and burned.

The side door was unlocked, and when I entered, I quickly assessed the area, noting the three soldiers standing in the room’s dark corners.

I didn’t address them. Instead, I moved through the kitchen, entered the corridor, and moved into the sitting area where I took notice of Dameon’s consigliere, Rolando Massimo, sitting on the navy contemporary sofa. In my chair, Dameon sat, smoking a cigar, as his eyes perused me. When I spoke to him, I addressed him as Father out of respect, but away from the Lucas Cosa Nostra, I referred to him as Dameon.

“You missed dinner,” he said, his voice gruff as if he had a cough stuck in his throat.

I sucked my teeth. “Did you need to visit me with Rolando at your side, Father?”

Dameon’s brows rose, and he released a puff of smoke. “What is the problem here?”

“Yes,” Rolando drawled, “I would like to know the same.”

I held my eyes on Dameon. “When you visit your heir, shouldn’t you come as a father and not a boss?”

“Are you saying?—”

“I’m not speaking to you, Rolando,” I cut in. He closed his lips, his gaze dropping into a glare.

“You see,” I added, returning my attention to Dameon. “I can’t have a single conversation with you without his intrusion. Secondly, I would be forever grateful if you didn’t bring your men into my home. You are safe as soon as you cross the threshold. You don’t need them when visiting me.”

Dameon held his stare on me, nodding, then spoke to Rolando. “Clear the house.”

“Dameon…”

He peered at Rolando, and the man closed his mouth, stood, and exited the room. I waited until I heard the side door close, then I gave Dameon a smirk.

“Thank you.”

He nodded once and pulled on his cigar. “What is with you and him lately?”

I kept my face neutral and sat in a chair across from him.

“There is nothing with me. I don’t know what is happening with him as I do not keep up with his disposition.”

Laughter flew from Dameon’s lips, followed by a rough cough. I peered at him, watched him gather himself after the rough spasm, then we sat in silence for a full minute.

“Are you okay?”

He mumbled. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Where have you been?”

My brows rose. “Fucking a woman I met last night.”

He sniffed and perused me again. “You didn’t discard her at yesterday’s end?”

“She has some good pussy. I wanted more.”

His rough laughter was back. “Discard her after tonight. Find someone else with good pussy.”

---