Page 58 of Obsession

My heart thumps loudly in my chest, and I can feel a bead of sweat forming on my forehead. It takes effort not to show him how those words affect me. No one in this family has ever mentioned my father. It’s not like I went out of my way to hide itor anything; we have the same last name, for Christ’s sake. But not one other person has put those two pieces together.

Except Sam.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” Sam continues. “I think I can put the pieces together and you can tell me if I’m right. Yeah?” He doesn’t wait for me to agree. “You were what, ten when your father was killed? Kids have a way of making up their own realities when they’re not given other facts. That’s not me speculating, that’s just psychology.” He gives me another one of his charming smiles, and I think I want to puke. I didn’t make up my reality after my father was murdered.

“So, your dad was a dealer forla famiglia,but he got picked up. Back then, Big Al was running product, and he didn’t care much for people, but he did care about protecting the family. So he wouldn’t have even tried to get your father out—no, instead he went right to cutting his losses. He had your father killed in prison so he couldn’t rat on him. Sound right?”

I purse my lips together, not wanting to give him anything. But his story is right. My father sold drugs for Big Al Ricci, and when he was caught, he wound up dead before a court date was ever even set.

Sam nods, knowing he’s right. “So then my guess is little Adrian didn’t like that. After all, your ma was already gone, leaving you and Federico orphans. I know, you’re nonna took you in; she’s a good woman.”

My jaw tightens when he talks about Nonna. Sam must sense it because he puts his hands up defensively.

“I’m just telling a story,” he muses. “So then what? You’re left to create this story about why my family is the devil. The scum of the earth. The enemy, if you will. You probably plotted for twenty years on how to take us down. And here you are, consigliere, married into the family — you’re well on your way.” He pauses, one eyebrow lifting as he watches me. “Am I right?”

There’s an ache in my jaw from how hard I’m clenching it.

“Here’s the thing, Adrian.” Sam leans forward, elbows resting on the metal table, his voice serious. “If your father had worked for mine, I guarantee he wouldn’t be dead. Because my father would have tried to get him off. And if he didn’t, then he would have been protected in prison. There are many dealers who came after your father who can attest to that. This family is broken, cracked right down the fucking middle. You just happen to be on the side that’s infected with disease. You want to burn them down? I’ll hand you the fucking matches. But on this side? Me and John? We don’t behave like animals.”

His words take a moment to process in my brain. Everything’s moving slowly since he brought up my father and all the memories that came up with it. Is he right? If my father had only worked for Junior, would he still be alive?

“Who killed Big Al?” I don’t know why I ask the question. I don’t know why I think it’s important. But I know he didn’t just blow himself up; that man had been making bombs for years.

A sly smile stretches across Sam’s lips. “Depends. Have you picked a side? Because we’re going to war, Adrian. And I’m happy to tell you all our secrets, but I need to know you’re devoted. So, are you?”

Am I? Am I devoted to this family that took everything from me? No, absolutely not. But there’s a part of me that wants to trust Sam. I can’t, though. Not when I know what this family has done to mine and countless others. But words are just that, words. I can promise him now and stab him in the back later. God knows that’s what they did to my dad.

“Yes,” I tell him.

“My father blew him up with one of his own bombs.”

Air swooshes from my lungs. Does Madi know that’s how her father was murdered? By his own family with his own bomb?

“That seems fitting.”

Sam chuckles. “So, now that we got that out of the way. How are you going to get me out of here?”

WhenI finally leave Orleans Parish Prison, I have a mix of emotions. I tug off my tie in the car and inhale a deep breath. Sam is sending me to New York to meet with reinforcements. Apparently, there’s a fixer out there who’s loyal to him and will help me come up with a plan to get him out of prison. I’m so close to getting what I want; I can still fuck Sam over, can still take down this entire family.

But right now, all I can think about is getting back to Madi.

She’s on the couch when I get home, her feet propped up on the coffee table while she flips through some shitty gossip magazine. Gray sweatpants cover her legs and the matching top is too short, exposing her stomach. Her blue hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head. She smiles when she sees me.

Absolutely fucking gorgeous.

I don’t take my time with her tonight, not when every fiber of my being just needs to be inside her. I don’t even take her upstairs like a gentleman. Instead, I rip the magazine from her hands and toss it to the side, flipping her over so she’s draped over the arm of the couch and pull off the sweats.

“Adrian-”

“Shh.” I hush whatever she was about to say. “I need to be inside you, princess. Any objections?”

I give her a moment to answer while I free my cock from my slacks, but I take her silence as consent, and once I’m free, I push deep inside her.

We both groan with the feeling as her tight pussy grips my cock. Fucking her clears all the noise from my head, silences allmy demons. Who knew that I would find solace in the pussy of the daughter of the man who killed my father?

I take her rough and hard and relish the way she moans through it, loving every second.

“Touch yourself,” I demand, and her small hand moves to her wet clit, rubbing frantically. “Come,” I say once I know she’s close. “Come for me, princess. Show me what a good girl you are.”

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