Page 29 of Insane Obsession

The car looks ridiculously expensive—black, sleek, andlarge. When we settle into the back, I notice the driver. Dressed in a dark suit and hat, he could have walked straight out of a Hemingway story.

“Finn, this is Jim. He’s been our driver since we were kids. Jim, this is Finn. He’s with us now.”

“Hello,” I mumble and give the man a faint wave. Our eyes meet through the rearview mirror, and he dips his chin in a formal greeting.

“How long is the ride from here?” Castor asks.

“About an hour,” Jim says in a surprisingly high, trembling voice. “Jean insisted I’d pack you refreshments. They’re in the fridge.”

“Fridge?” I ask.

Bran pats onto a slick, metal box tucked away in the corner. “Right here. Need anything, flower? We’ve got sodas and sandwiches.”

“After all the food you made me eat earlier?” I rub my stomach. “No, thank you.”

As the car leaves, we settle into a silence that invites my mind to create stress. Everything about this party worries me: seeing the others after last night, SeeingDavid.

I’d never admit it to anyone, but I’m terrified of him.

Afraid of not knowing what he’ll do next. Afraid of when he’ll strike again.

My head lols to the side, and a strong arm grabs my shoulder and squeezes me close. My eyes start to drift. I hear the twins softly speaking to each other.

“I’m still fucking pissed that the hero can’t just get a bullet between his eyes,” Castor grumbles.

Bran chuckles softly. “Let them do their thing. We invest in their project because they know how to release a beast of a film. By the way, I’ve got something else for us. Fresh from the press. Something far more interesting.”

There’s a pause filled with the rustle of papers. It’s a relaxing sound, and I sigh, satisfied.

“Nice.” Castor whistles. “Cause of death?”

“Starvation. It took the victim two months to die. His family wants us to take out the killer, whether the police catch him or not.”

“Sounds perfect. Did Jean discuss our terms and conditions?”

“She did. We’ll start in the new year. The family wants to give the police some working space before we follow their tracks.”

My eyes flutter at those words, my heart thumping loudly.

“Sshh. Sleep.” Soft lips press a kiss onto my shoulder before moving up. Then I hear the twins making out, their wet mouths brushing as Bran moans. There are soft chuckles, followed by more words.

I must have drifted off because the next thing I hear is Jim announcing we have arrived. We get out of the car, and I immediately see that we’re no longer in upstate New York but in busy Manhattan. I wonder how long I was out.

Thatcher and Son is as exclusive as I feared. The owner is already waiting for us when we reach the door. “It’s good to see you again, gentlemen.” He ushers us inside.

The story is empty of other customers. A table with bottles of champagne and snacks has been set up, surrounded by leather couches. Soft music plays in the background.

“I have had the three suits tailored to your specifications and in a fitting area. Is there anything special you need or?—”

“Yes.” Castor drawls, clasping a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We need you to leave us while we dress our man. You can send the invoice directly to the company.”

“Certainly.” The owner smiles and disappears.

“Well.” Bran lifts my hand and brushes a kiss on my knuckles. “Shall we begin?”

Everywhere around me, there are rows of shiny clothes.Expensiveclothes.

“Don’t look at the price,” Castor mutters in my ear. “Look at what you love.”

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