Page 74 of Assassin's Obsession

All of it washes down the drain with the deliciously hot water.

"Isn't this a waste of water?" I ask without opening my eyes, not exactly wracked with guilt about it.

"All bathing and drinkable water waste gets recycled through an underground filtration system."

"Mom will approve."

"Good. I want her to like me."

That right there. Could he have said anything more perfect. My psychopath stalker wants my mom to like him.

Tipping my head forward again, I open my eyes and find Angelo intently watching me. Like my standing here under the water is just the most fascinating thing ever.

I step further into the shower but when I reach the center of the six-by-six foot enclosure, the water from above stops falling on me.

Curious about why, I look up and gasp. There's a silhouette of a dancer set in a circular piece of iridescent stone in the ceiling. She's wearing stripper heels and angel's wings.

Both the shape of the wings and her curves are very familiar. "That's me."

"It is."

"How? Why?" I shake my head. "Never mind."

Both answers are obvious. How? Angelo is seriously rich and money talks. Why? The man is also seriously obsessed with me.

"I like looking at you."

Even when it's an artistic representation of me. I get it.

"It's not a picture of my eyes," I tease.

"That's above the bed."

"What? No. Seriously?"

He nods, his gaze locked on me like I might disappear any second and he can't take the chance of that happening. Naked and locked in his safe-room bedroom, there's no chance of that.

But being the center of this man's attention is still a heady feeling.

"What's so interesting about my peepers anyway?" They're ordinary brown, like millions of other people have.

"Sometimes, when you dance, you're somewhere else in your mind." He traces my brow line with his forefinger, like he just can'tnottouch me. "That first night, your expression was that of an ethereal being transported to earth for mere mortals like myself to gaze upon."

"You're pretty poetic for a mafia hitman."

Something flashes in his fixated gaze. "Only when it comes to you." He searches my face, looking for something. "That doesn't bother you?"

"What?" I try to remember what we're talking about. I'm standing naked in the shower for the first time with a man; I can be forgiven for being a little distracted. "That you're a hitman?"

"I’m more than an assassin, but yes, that."

"It should, right? A good person wouldn't have a personal relationship with a criminal." I guess I'm not a good person because the only person I want to get involved with is him.

"Does that mean you don't want to be in a relationship with me?" His expression says that ship has sailed though. "Because you are the best person I know."

Why does he have to say stuff like that? "Most people wouldn't call a stripper a good person."

"Why not?"

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