Page 12 of Obsessive Love

I grab Jaylen's arm and drag him towards the kitchen, wanting to speak to my mum before I have this dooming conversation with her husband.

"Soph," Jaylen hisses, tugging his arm out of my hold. "Your dad's waiting."

"And he can continue to wait. I think you're forgetting that I'm his daughter and not one of his little henchmen. I want to go and see my mum, so he can wait. Feel free to go and tell him that, Jay."

Jaylen scoffs before rounding me and walking into the kitchen, making me laugh.

After spending years with my cousin as my bodyguard and having him with me all day, every day, I've grown close to him and know that, just like me, he hates to be told what to do. He lives for mischief. So although he tries to abide by the rules and he tries to follow orders, it's easy to sway him into doing the wrong thing.

As soon as I enter the kitchen, my mother's arms wrap around me, squeezing me against her as she peppers kisses around my face, fussing over me like a baby.

"Mum, you're acting like I've been missing or something! Let me go," I squeal, giggling as I bat her away from me, causing her to laugh as well.

"I'm sorry, darling, I'm just trying to get as many hugs and kisses in before you leave me again."

"She's gonna be down the road, and I'm sure she'll be dragging me back here weekly. What is it with you women acting as if she's never coming back," Jaylen huffs, shaking his head and walking over to grab one of the bread rolls off the tray Greta's pulling out of the oven.

"What is it with you men trying to pinch the food before it's ready to be eaten?" Greta barks, snatching the bread roll away from him before angrily muttering to herself in Italian.

The Italian pouring out of her mouth has my thoughts racing back to the hunk from last night and an idea sparks in my head.

"Hey, Greta. What does—"

"Sophia!"

My words cut off and my head snaps around to the entryway of the kitchen to where my father stands, his face red with anger and a scowl settled on his face as he stares at me.

"Michael, there's no need to shout at her like that," my mother scolds, swatting him with a tea towel as she passes him. "You may be in charge out there, but in here, you're not. Calm yourself down and stop with the shouting."

I smirk when my father's face switches from angry to guilty in a matter of seconds. He steps towards my mother, in an attempt to apologise but she shakes her head.

"You can apologise to me later. For now, go back to your office and I will send Sophia and Jaylen to you in a moment. There's no harm in waiting a few more minutes, love."

He sheepishly nods and then leaves the kitchen with slumped shoulders and a defeated look on his face.

"Damn, Auntie Lou. If I ever meet a woman like you, I'll be sure to run the other way. No way in hell will I ever let a woman have me by the balls like that," Jaylen says, cringing from where he's propped against the counter.

My mother laughs at his comment as she walks over to me with a glass of wine.

"You'll meet a woman like me one day, kid, and you'll be thankful for her, trust me." She then turns to me, handing me the glass and giving me a sad smile. "Go have a talk with your father, darling. He's stressed and has a lot on his plate at the moment, so go easy on him, okay?"

"Come on, Soph. Let's get this over with and then we can go see Jess."

Mum narrows her eyes and hums as she glances between me and Jaylen.

"Weren't you with Jess this morning?" she asks.

Jaylen stops walking and quietly curses. Meanwhile, I stare at my mother's face, hoping I look unfazed that she's caught us in a lie.

She smiles and pulls me in for a hug. "I hope you had fun last night, darling. I just hope you didn't do anything too fun," she whispers. "You may be twenty-four now, but you're still my baby girl and in a life like ours, you need to be careful what you do and who you do it with."

She presses a kiss to my cheek and then busies herself in the kitchen, leaving me standing there wondering how she seemed to know what I'd done the night before.

Jaylen nudges me, breaking me out of my stupor and leading me out of the kitchen.

"That was a close one," he huffs.

We grow silent as we approach my father's office and dread begins to settle in my stomach. I know I'm not going to like this conversation, especially because he's no doubt going to give me rules I'll have to abide by, but after what my brother and my mum have told me, I know my father dislikes this option as much as I do.

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