Page 73 of Lord of Obsession

Whatever comes next, I've made my choice.

And I'd make it again, a thousand times over.

TWENTY

DARIO

The villa's stone walls catch the afternoon sunlight, warming beneath my touch as I trace old mason's marks along the façade. This place isn't like the Greco family compounds with their ostentatious displays of wealth and armed guards at every corner. No, this sanctuary carries age and quiet certainty in its bones. A fortress disguised as a coastal retreat.

I test the new security system with methodical precision, each sensor responding perfectly to simulated breaches. The setup is elegant in its simplicity: motion detectors hidden in ancient olive trees, pressure plates beneath imported gravel, and infrared beams crossing every possible approach. Anyonegetting within a hundred yards will trigger at least three overlapping alerts.

"Overkill?" Rafael asks from the terrace doorway, his frame silhouetted against warm interior light. Two months of healing have erased the worst of his injuries, though he still favors his right leg after extended walks.

"Necessary precaution." I join him on the wide stone terrace that overlooks the Mediterranean. Salt hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the heady fragrance of night-blooming jasmine climbing along ancient trellises. "Your uncle hasn't stopped looking. Neither has my father."

Rafael doesn't flinch at the mention of family anymore. Progress, considering how deeply the Valenti roots ran through his identity. He hands me a glass of something amber that catches the sunset's glow, his fingers brushing mine in deliberate contact.

"Torres confirmed three attempts to breach his network last week. They're still trying to track our path out of Montcove."

I sip the whiskey—expensive, from the collection we acquired with the villa—and savor the burn. "Let them waste resources.Every false lead we've planted just confuses their efforts more."

The Mediterranean stretches beyond our cliffside perch, endless blue melting into a horizon painted in shades of fire. Fishing boats dot the water, tiny pinpricks of light beginning to flicker as twilight approaches. Below us, waves crash against limestone in rhythms older than family feuds or blood oaths.

"I never thought I'd have this." Rafael's voice drops lower, a rare vulnerability in his tone that might be imperceptible to anyone who doesn't know him as I do. "Something that belongs just to us. Not family legacy or inherited territory."

My hand finds the small of his back, feeling heat through Italian linen. "It's different when you build it yourself."

The property transfers were complicated. Shell companies within shell companies, ownership records buried beneath layers of digital protection. This villa exists in a kind of legal limbo, visible on no registry connected to either Greco or Valenti interests. It's ours in ways nothing else has ever been.

"Come." I guide him inside as darknessclaims the horizon. "Security's confirmed. The rest can wait until morning."

The interior blends old-world craftsmanship with modern necessity. Limestone floors cool beneath bare feet. Vaulted ceilings carry whispers across open space. Hidden panels conceal weapons caches and emergency supplies, because some habits die harder than others. Despite the villa's age, we've ensured nothing inside could be classified as antiquated—not the security, not the amenities, and certainly not the defenses.

Rafael moves through our new home with that dangerous grace he tried so hard to disguise in his former life. Law books still line some shelves, but they're interspersed now with tactical manuals and intelligence assessments. His fingers trail across leather-bound volumes, the gesture almost wistful.

"Do you miss it?" I find myself asking. "The academic world. The illusion of normalcy."

His laugh carries no bitterness, just honest recognition. "Sometimes I miss the simplicity of pretending I could be something other than what I am." He turns, catching me with those amber eyes that see too much. "Butthen I remember the cost of that pretense. How exhausting it was to maintain those walls."

I step closer, eliminating the careful distance he once insisted on maintaining. My hands find his hips, pulling him against me until I feel his heartbeat through layers of fabric. "No more walls between us."

"No more pretending." His voice drops to a whisper as his forehead rests against mine. "No more running."

Outside, sophisticated sensors maintain constant vigilance. Inside, we've created something neither of our families would understand—something built on choice rather than obligation. My fingers find the buttons of his shirt, each one coming undone with deliberate care.

"This home is just the beginning," I tell him, the words a promise sealed with teeth against his throat. "One piece of what we're building."

His head falls back, giving me better access as I mark territory already claimed a dozen different ways. "Foundation stones."

"Exactly." My hands slide beneath opened fabric, mapping warm skin and old scars. "Thefirst layer of something neither of our fathers could imagine."

The villa settles around us, ancient stones witnessing this new chapter as we claim another room in our sanctuary. Outside, waves continue their relentless rhythm, a sound that carries neither judgment nor expectation. Just endless possibility spreading toward a horizon we've chosen for ourselves.

The night passes into dawn as we claim this space as our own.

Morning light filtersthrough half-drawn shutters, painting stripes across Rafael's sleeping form. I've been awake for hours, reviewing security protocols and checking network activity for any hint of discovery. Old habits, though the context has transformed entirely.

A message from Torres blinks on my encrypted tablet: another shipment intercepted, another of my father's operations compromised by information we'd strategically released. The balance of power in Montcove shifts with each calculated revelation. Notenough to destroy either family, but sufficient to keep them focused internally rather than hunting us with full resources.

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