Page 68 of Savage Obsession

Lazaro sighs, then his voice drops, oozing venom.

"This wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for those two whores."

Basilis stiffens. "Whores?"

"My wife and my daughter," Lazaro sneers. "Those ungrateful bitches betrayed me. My own wife—after all these years—goes running to Sebastian with her pathetic sob story. And Bella? She was supposed to be my legacy. My weapon. Instead, she crumbles at the first sign of trouble."

Basilis stays quiet. He obviously knows better than to interrupt when Lazaro is on a tirade.

"I should have put them both in the ground myself," Lazaro continues, his voice thick with rage. "Mark my words, Basilis. I don’t care if it takes me a hundred years to get my hands on them, I’ll make them pay."

Basilis shifts uneasily in his seat. He might be a traitor, but even he has his limits.

Lazaro exhales sharply, regaining control. "But first, Aithan Vasilios dies."

Basilis swallows. "What do we do now? I think they are unto me too."

"I still have pieces in play," Lazaro mutters. "The next attack is already in motion. By the time they realize what’s happening, I’ll be gone, and no one will ever know you were involved, so stop shaking. I can hear your bones rattling across the phone."

Basilis doesn’t know what terrifies him more—Lazaro’s arrogance or the certainty in his voice.

Neither of them realizes I’m listening.

I stand outside the council estate, a Bluetooth device in my ear, listening to every single word. It had indeed been a good idea to bug Basilis’s house and cars before striking Orestes.

My grip tightens around my phone, rage simmering just beneath the surface.

Lazaro is still plotting.

Lazaro is still breathing.

But not for much longer.

Leon steps beside me, lighting a cigarette, exhaling slowly. "Viktor’s men are in position. The moment Basilis goes to him, we’ll have our target."

I nod once, my jaw locked tight. "Good. We wait."

There’s something beastly thrumming beneath my skin, a cold, steady rage that’s been festering since the moment I found Yelena collapsed in that bathroom.

The air is cool against my skin, but the fury burning in my chest keeps me warm. I stand outside the council estate, still listening to Lazaro run his mouth like he still holds the upper hand.

Fool.

He doesn’t realize that every word spilling from his lips is sealing his fate.

He’s always underestimated me. Only seeing me as nothing more than a reckless playboy—an heir who was more interested in women, liquor, and fast cars than in the empire I was born to rule and has been building with my sweat and blood. He thought I lacked the discipline, the foresight, and the heart of a leader.

That was his first mistake.

The second was believing he could maneuver against me in the shadows, manipulating pawns while keeping his hands clean. But Lazaro’s problem has always been his arrogance. He sees himself as untouchable; the mastermind pulling all the strings. And yet, he’s played his hand too early, too recklessly, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs right to his door.

The attempt on Yelena’s life was the final straw.

He thought to take my Princess away from me and sneak his daughter back into my bed when I am too consumed with grief? That I’d be too blinded to notice? All he has succeeded in doing is to get me consumed with rage, and rage is a weapon when it’s wielded with precision.

And I don’t swing blindly. I carve. I cut. I end.

I flick my gaze to Leon, who’s watching the street with practiced ease. “Viktor’s men are in position,” he says, voice low. “The moment Basilis arrives at his destination, we will be notified.”

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