Page 149 of Divine Obsession

I glanced down at my phone. A GPS tracker overlaying a map of New York, a single dot pulsing softly. Further statistics and exact calculations letting me know it was coming from her bedroom in her parent’s penthouse. She was probably still asleep.

The signal wasn’t just from her phone or laptop; it came from something closer. I could still hear her voice in my head from when she’d received the pink-diamond-heart pendant on her birthday earlier in the year.

“I love it!” Natalia threw her arms around Kali’s neck and kissed her cheek, making her laugh. “I promise to never take it off!”

She’d thought it was from Kali; or our parents.

But the gift had been from me.

And she had no idea.

She’d been so excited to put it on, she didn’t look at the back to see it was softly encrypted with the wordamai.

I told myself it wasn’t about control or invading her privacy. But who was I kidding? I needed to know where she was. Who she was with. What she was doing. The fact that it gave me access to her phone, her laptop, her entire digital world – that was just a useful side effect.

The elevator dinged softly, and I slipped the phone back into my pocket as the doors slid open. A wave of warm light and muted conversation spilled in, along with the faint scent of expensive champagne and high-end perfume.

The penthouse was as extravagant as I’d expected. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the Tokyo skyline, its glittering lights stretching endlessly into the night. Guests in designer gowns and tailored suits moved through the room, their laughter and smiles practiced. Every detail of the space screamed wealth, from the cascading crystal chandelier to the sleek, minimalist furniture that probably cost more than most people’s houses.

I stepped out into the party, adjusting the cuffs of my suit as I scanned the room.

Natalia wasn’t here – the dot showed she was halfway across the world.

But that didn’t matter.

Because wherever she was – whatever she was doing –I knew.

Columbia was a shark tank; a breeding ground for ambition wrapped in designer suits, and Mommy and Daddy’s credit cards. Everyone was trying to prove something, claw their way to the top of whatever throne they imagined they deserved.

And in the middle of it all, there was Natalia.

Her intelligence and beauty too effortless.

Men noticed her, of course. They always did. She had this way of walking into a room and pulling the air out of it.

At first, they approached her – awkward smiles, cheesy one-liners, the usual. And for a little while, they tried to get close. Some even got bold enough to ask her out, their eyes lighting up like they’d won the goddamn lottery.

But it never lasted.

A few days later, those same guys would avoid her like she didn’t exist. Their smiles disappeared, replaced by nervous glances and hushed whispers. And eventually, the message spread…

Natalia Moretti was off-fucking-limits.

I made sure of that.

It wasn’t hard. A few hundred dollars to some guys from a boxing team in Queens who owed me favors… It didn’t take much to get the point across.

Stay away from her, or get the shit beat out of you.

No one wanted to be the guy limping to class with a split lip and a black eye, explaining how they’d been ‘accidentally’ jumped at a frat party.

It didn’t take long before none of the guys so much as looked in her direction.

Then there was the communications professor. The smug asshole thought he could talk down to her, embarrass her in front of the class. I’d been sitting next to her the day it happened.

The night I graduated early, he got an anonymous email linking him to some compromising photos from a Vegas trip he thought was long forgotten. By the end of the week, Columbia announced he was fired.

Protecting Natalia had become second nature to me, even if she didn’t know it.Especially because she didn’t know it.

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