Page 12 of Obsession

My mother sighs heavily when I don’t respond. “I never could control you,ragazza.Maybe Adrian will have better luck.” She spins on her heel and leaves me there.

I try not to cry as Vanessa paints the globs of black dye onto my hair, wrapping them neatly in foils. I don’t want anyone to know how much this bothers me or how attached I am to the color of my hair. But when she spins me around to show me the final product, long, dark, and shiny locks framing my tanned face, I break. Just for a moment, just a slipup when my facade cracks and my lips twist and it’s obvious that I hate it more than I can bear.

But then I straighten my features and nod at Vanessa and stand from the chair.

They’ve made me into a perfect little doll for my new husband, but it won’t tame me. Won’t make me compliant.

I still plan to make that asshole miserable.

SEVEN

Adrian

“What are we doing here, brother?” Fede sounds displeased as his eyes roam the building in front of us. We’re less than a mile from Tulane University, where I’m guessing this little prick goes to school based on the slew of cars withTulane Universitystickers on their back windshields.

“What Fede?” I smile. “Too good for the dirty work these days?”

Fede runs a hand through his dark hair. He’s wearing a suit, and so am I. And not something off the rack at Macy’s, but tailored pieces of art made for our bodies, with a logo on the collars that screamsmoney. Years ago, when we were scraping by, I could have never imagined me and my brother would end up in tailored suits. And yet, here we are.

We weren’t too good to throw a few punches to send a message back then. No, back then, throwing punches was part of surviving. But you don’t have to send messages that way when the law’s on your side. A privilege our father never had.

Fede sighs. “No,” he answers my question. “Butyouare. You’re a lawyer now, not a thug.”

My younger brother grew up idolizing me. Not that I intended for that to happen, it just did. After our father went to prison, I was the only man left in his life, and I vowed to drag us out of the pit of hell we were left in. Our nonna tried, she did. She took care of us like we were her own sons. But still, I wanted more.

And I got us more.

Just needed a law school degree and the right connections to do so. And Fede, he doesn’t want for a thing now.

“Consider it like old times.” I clap him on the back. “Come on, he’s in apartment three.”

Fede rolls his eyes, but he follows me. “What’d the guy do anyway?”

“Touched Madi.”

“Jesus,” my brother hisses. “That’s why we’re here? Who fucking cares if he touched your fake wife. You do realize that, right? That this isn’t real?”

I wave a hand at my brother. “The marriage isn’t fake.”

Fede rolls his eyes once more. “Just everything else, then?”

I ignore him, instead seizing the opportunity of two blondes exiting the building. I smile and nod as I catch the door they’ve opened, allowing me to get inside without having a key to the building. An old trick that works every time. It’s only a few minutes until we’re standing in front of the black door with the gold number three nailed to it.

“This is stupid,” Fede grumbles.

“Noted.” I knock, three loud pounds against the door, ignoring the clear disdain from my brother. Fede’s right, this marriage is a sham. Still, that doesn’t mean that anyone can just put their hands onmywife.

The door swings open, revealing a blond-haired frat boy looking college student wearing sweats and sporting a black eye. The non-black eye widens when he sees me, recognition flooding his brain and fight-or-flight kicking in. He tries to slam the door in our faces as quickly as he opened it, but it’s not enough. My foot slides in the doorway, blocking it from shutting. His new plan is to put up his hands, as if that will protect him.

“Please.” The plea is pathetic, and his legs stumble backwards as he tries to put space in between us. I can hear Fede mumble a laugh at the asshole as I drag the driver’s license from my pocket.

“Tell me”—I look down, reading the name off the piece of plastic—“Royce. Why the fuck do you think it’s okay to touch girls while they’re clearly sayingno?Hmm? Does that get you off? Do you like being a rapist?”

“N-no!” He’s still moving backwards, and with each step, I move toward him. “I didn’t! I wouldn’t!”

“Don’t lie,” I say calmly. Slowly, I take off my suit jacket, handing it to Fede as I take measured steps. I work on rolling up my sleeves next, and the little fucker at least shakes with fear as he watches me. “I caught you red-handed, Royce. You were literally touching my girl and I heard her sayno.What else would you consider that? Hmm?”

He doesn’t respond, instead the back of his knees hit the couch, and he stumbles, falling back onto it, giving me the perfect opportunity to angle my body over his. Hovering above him, I can see his eyes dilate, his skin pale, as he trembles beneath me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he pissed himself from fear.

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