Page 14 of Obsessive Love

Now, I'm sitting in the kitchen at my parent's house stress-eating whilst I wait for my future husband and his father to turn up for this meeting we're meant to be having today.

Greta silently enters the kitchen, subtly glancing my way before she makes her way over to the dishwasher and begins to unload it.

I scoot off of my chair and walk over to her, checking the foyer as I pass the entryway to the kitchen and making sure no one else is nearby.

"Greta," I whisper, making her jump and almost drop a plate. I immediately apologise and place a placating hand on her arm. "I really didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to ask you a question."

She turns to face me with narrowed, questioning eyes as she places a glass back into the dishwasher.

"I would usually say that I'll happily answer anything you ask me, Miss Sophia, but the fact that you're whispering has me hesitant."

"It's nothing to worry about," I tell her, glancing over my shoulder to confirm we're still alone. "I just wanted to ask you about some Italian words. I was hoping you could translate them for me, you know because you're Italian."

She looks around nervously but nods her head.

"What doesdolcezzamean?"

Her eyes light up and her lips lift at the corners.

"Has someone been calling you sweetness? Oh, Miss Sophia, this is adorable!"

Sweetness? He was calling me sweetness?

Jesus. That man really doesn't know me if that's the nickname he's chosen for me..

"Yeah, sure, that's really cute," I sigh, rolling my eyes. "Anyway, the next one is amore mio, can you tell me what that means?"

Her brows raise and surprise washes over her face. She steps back and picks up the glass from the dishwasher that she put back a moment ago.

"Miss Sophia, I don't mean to intrude, but I do hope that it is your future husband who has been calling you these things," she whispers. Before she can continue, the doorbell rings loudly through the house, bouncing off the walls and echoing through the room.

We both stand in silence, staring at each other as we hear footsteps coming down the stairs. As I hear the footsteps move towards the kitchen, I turn around and see Jaylen walking in.

"I've been looking for you, Soph! Thought you'd done a runner! We need to go to your dad's office, come on. It's time to meet your future husband."

I scowl at him and shake my head before turning back to Greta and quietly thanking her for help.

As we walk down the lavish hallway towards my father's office, dread settles in my stomach. No doubt, there are going to be a lot of things said that I'm not happy with, especially considering Alessandro has told my father he wants to put some rules in place for my and Jericho's wedding and future relationship.

I'm going to have to keep my mouth shut, but that shouldn't be too hard. I've had to act a certain way for most of my life as the daughter of Michael King, the head of the King organisation – one of London's two most powerful crime families. So I know how to people please, and I know to only speak when spoken to when I'm dealing with certain types of men. One thing I haven't learned to control though is my facial expressions. If there's something I disagree with or something that aggravates me, it's quite obvious to tell how I feel just by taking a glimpse at my face.

Jaylen reaches the closed door before I do and knocks three times before entering. I take a deep breath and then follow after him, forcing a sweet smile onto my face. My father approaches me, kissing my cheek and wrapping an arm aroundmy shoulders as he steers me towards his desk where two men are standing.

"Sophia, this is Alessandro Rossi," he tells me, nudging me towards the older man. Alessandro's cold, hardened eyes, scan me from head to toe before he reaches his hand out. I glance at my father and when he nods, I step forward and shake Alessandro's hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr Rossi."

He tips his head in acknowledgement and applies pressure to my hand as he pulls me closer to him. He stares down at me, his empty gaze burning into mine.

"Likewise," he grunts, finally letting go of my hand before turning around and sitting down in one of the leather chairs seated in the office. My brows furrow as I stare at the back of his head in confusion at his coldness towards me.

My father clears his throat behind me making me turn my attention to him. He subtly shakes his head, likely disagreeing with my expression and then he waves his arm in the other man's direction.

"This is Alessandro's son, Jericho. Your husband-to-be."

I refrain from rolling my eyes at his comment and plaster my smile back on my face before turning to Jericho. He watches me with the same cold expression his father had, although his lips tilt up the slightest amount as he reaches forward to shake my hand.

I take a moment to assess him, noting that his hardened gaze may be the same as his father's, but his eyes are different. Not only are they bright blue instead of green like Alessandro's, but they seem haunted too. It's not surprising considering he's a part of a criminal family. There's no doubt he's seen and done a lot of terrible things.

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