Page 54 of Obsession

“It’s not a bad thing,” he says as I order my drink. “It’s good motivation.”

I can’t even say that John is cocky or smug. The way he talks is so even, so void of emotion, that I don’t think he’s taunting me as much as he’s making an observation.

“I’m working on it,” I say, tossing the whiskey back and sliding the glass in front of the bartender for a refill. “I have a meeting withhimtomorrow.” I don’t say Sam’s name for worry that someone will overhear me. Damien is here, wandering around somewhere behind me. For the moment, I need to keep my double play a secret. John knows I’m working with Damien,but Damien doesn’t know that I’m working with John. And neither knows I plan to fuck them both over.

“Good.” John nods, then takes another sip of his drink. “The quicker you do your job, the sooner this will all be over. In the meantime, I have another task for you.”

I withhold the groan building in my chest. I have no desire to do any more favors for John, but if I want to keep him from getting suspicious that I’m up to something, the best move is to play along. Even if I don’t want to help him.

“What is it?”

“Draw up some papers for me.” His lips twist into a smile. Whether he means it or if it’s an act, I’m not sure. “I want Saints and Sinners in my name.”

I take a sip of my whiskey just in time to nearly spit it out. “What?” If I draw up paperwork that puts Saints and Sinners in John’s name, Damien will surely kill me.

I’m stuck between be killed or be killed.

“Why?”

“Just do what I say, yeah?” John pats my shoulder right as Damien approaches us. I take another sip of whiskey to wash down the bitter taste in my mouth.

“Uncle.” John nods to him—what should be a sign of respect, but we all know it isn’t. This family is still suspicious that John is the reason Marcus isn’t here anymore. The fact is glaringly obvious from the way Caterina watches him with malice. Not that anyone will do or say a thing. Damien benefited from John’s actions, and the women all act like they have no idea what their family is involved in. Except Madi. I can see her peeking at me, worry etched on her face.

I think my little wife is falling for me.

The thought blooms in my head, then travels directly to my heart. We’ve turned a corner recently, and it’s not just sexbetween us anymore. John might be right; I might also be falling for my wife.

“John,” Damien says, almost dismissively to his nephew. John doesn’t need much more of a hint. He tilts his head to us and walks away without any more of a goodbye.

“What did he want?” Damien asks gruffly. He’s wearing black slacks, but his suit jacket is abandoned, and the top buttons of his shirt are undone. The New Orleans heat has him sweating, drips running down his temple. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs at the moisture.

“Just trying to get to know me.” I shrug. “I think he’s feeling a little protective over Madi.”

Damien snorts. “Him and his cousin both. They got that from Junior. He put fucking women on a pedestal. If he were alive, arranged marriages would be banned from this family.” Damien snorts like he told a funny joke.

Part of me wonders if the girls would be better off if Junior was here.

Then Marcus wouldn’t have been able to promise Madi to me like she was nothing but an object to be traded and sold.

My eyes land on my girl, still talking to Zoe, who’s now been joined by John. She’d probably be happier if I wasn’t in her life.

I chuckle anyway to placate him. “Well, he’s not here.”

Damien grins. “That’s right.” He clinks his glass against mine like we’re cheering for the fact that his brother-in-law is dead. “Let’s get a cigar, hmm?” It sounds like a question, but it’s not. So I nod and follow Damien as he leads me inside to the office that used to belong to Marcus and his father before him. Seems like a death sentence to be in the office when you think about all the men who once inhabited it.

Damien rounds the desk, pulling a box of Cubans from one of the drawers. He meets me on the other side, handing me a cigar and gesturing for me to sit in one of the deep red leather chairs.Lighting his cigar first before handing the lighter to me, he leans back in his seat, inhaling a puff of smoke. It blows from his lips in thick white clouds as I light up mine. I still hate smoking; I have to hide my grimace as I puff my own cigar. Disgusting.

“So, how’s it going?” There’s more to that question left invisibly lingering between us.

What he means is: how isgetting rid of Samgoing?

“I joined his defense team,” I say, taking another puff of the disgusting cigar.

Damien raises one eyebrow, looking at me skeptically.

“I’m going to work it from the inside,” I say. “Join his defense team while I figure out the best way to fuck him over.”

“Staying in prison isn’t enough, you know that, right?” Clouds of white smoke blow from his lips. “That boy is determined.”

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