Page 62 of King of Obsession

This.

I wanted this.

I craved what her world represented: an uncomplicated, uncluttered life in a place untouched by the darkness and death that had once defined me.

One where the sins of my past were washed away.

A life characterized by simple rhythms, pure food, sweet-scented air, and the gentle march of time.

A life shared with a woman, with her heart belonging to me, only me, one who’d remain in my arms forever.

My lips twisted, even as my hand bunched around a stalk of wildflowers and pulled the stems out of the ground.

Fotto.

Was my hardened mafia warrior spirit considering hanging up my guns and settling in a place like this?

There was always a first fuckin’ time for everything, I huffed to myself.

I shook my head and continued patrolling the fence line, forcing my mind back to the mission: to protect Cleo from Franco Conti and give him his due justice by lying in wait for him and putting him in the ground once and for all.

Then, and only then, might I entertain foolish notions of a fresh start.

A flash of movement in my periphery made me tense as I returned to the farmhouse.

My free hand tightened on my gun as I spun around, ready for trouble.

But it was just Cleo, striding across the yard from the barn,a flashlight in hand.

I jolted, soul-lurching, as I followed her progress with a confident grace, her lean, lithe frame evident even from a distance.

The evening breeze tousled her dark hair, and the dying sun illuminated her striking features - high cheekbones, full lips, and eyes that missed nothing.

I exhaled, relaxing my stance but not my guard. Even in this peaceful place, I couldn’t afford to let it down. Not with an enemy still lurking.

Cleo spotted me and altered course to intercept my path. As she drew near, she arched an eyebrow. ‘Expecting company?’

She nodded towards my gun.

My fingers slipped from the weapon’s hilt, and I shrugged. ‘Old habits.’

I extended the hand I’d hidden behind me to her, thrusting the wildflowers in her face.

I tagged her instant joy and pushed my tongue into my cheek in triumph, watching as she took them and sunk her nose into them.

‘You like?’ I growled.

She tilted her head at me and rolled her eyes, but I detected the pleasure in her expression. ‘Grazie.’

My gesture appeared to have unlocked something in her as her gaze tracked over me, astute and assessing. ‘Walk with me. I want to show you something.’

I fell in beside her, trying not to lick my lips at how the faded denim of her jeans clung to her thighs. Or the graceful line of her neck disappearing beneath her worn flannel shirt collar. I tried and failed.

No doubt, she got me high, so high, on desire.

Dio mio, she was incredible.

A beautiful, cold-as-fuck badass.

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