Page 26 of King of Obsession

CLEO

Ilived alone, and I liked it.

I adored the isolation of the mountains I sheltered in, the quiet, the freakin’ peace.

Secluded, away from the world that wanted to tear me apart.

I wondered how Alessio would survive without the luxuries I assumed he was used to.

For all his pushy as fuck, gruff, and downright crude ways, he still had an air of sophistication and wealth.

He was probably accustomed to gilded bathrooms, king-size beds, and crystal chandeliers.

None of which was on offer here.

It was a simple life.

How would he react to the fact that all clothes were washed in a creek and that the toilet was of the composting variety?

There was no running water nor electricity, just a tinygenerator hooked up to my solar farm, a tank reservoir, and a fireplace.

His potential reaction rankled me as I imagined how he’d judge me and my eked-out existence.

For I’d never shared this roof with anyone other than my grandparents.

Alessio Calibrese was intimidating, no doubt.

His furrowed brow was daunting, eyes often narrowed and intense, scanning the room for probable threats.

His leonine hair and eyes afforded him the look of a sultry golden devil. Yet I sensed his soul and spirit were craggy as a granite cliff and rough as the sea carving its jagged edges.

The fact he was holding Nonna Guilia over me as a threat bestowed him with a layer of underlying danger and unpredictability that sent shivers down my spine.

My worry ratcheted for my grandmother and myself as the makings of a panic attack fluttered in my chest.

Taking a deep inhale as I eased out my front door away from him, I vowed not to let yet another man own me, my thoughts and soul.

I jumped on my ATV and rode the length of my farm’s border on a perimeter check.

I headed east of the property, where the Conti farm lay. Also where, a local mafia militia, the Caputos, had commandeered the holding and turned it into hemp fields.

Desperate for real estate where they could conduct illicit operations like theirs, the ruthless gang had made properties in the area an easy target.

Unless one patrolled their land on a regular basis, they’d find the mafia group had taken over with their shitty illegal crop. The few farmers who’d protested had been subject toharassment, mysterious fires, and livestock killings.

For some reason, they’d kept away from my property, perhaps due to a mandate from Franco.

Still, the Conti sons harassed me, attacking my fences and trees, sabotaging my windmills, and making my daily life a constant worry as they tried to wear me down. So, I’d give in to their demands.

I’d repelled them so far with a tight security setup. However, it was difficult for me to monitor the entire acreage.

I could only be in one place at once, after all.

While cameras and alarms worked for urban properties, farms needed more.

My spread had one too many hard-to-reach corners that required a connection to power to work.

Electricity cabling was too damn expensive to install over vast land, and trespassers in the past had taken full advantage of these blind spots.

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