Page 15 of Dangerous Obsession

Willow’s lips purse and she offers a concentrated look of curiosity mixed with frustration. “Like, how much meddling?”

I shrug one arm and shake my head. “What does it matter? We are together.” She doesn’t need to know what I've done.

“It matters, Leonid.” Her finger stops moving on my chest; her hand splays out. “Tell me.” She only uses my full name when she is upset, but I still only detect frustrated curiosity in her expression. She’s gotten better at hiding behind her poker face. I lie there for a moment controlling the angry response that wants to lash out at her.

I lick my teeth and feel tension entering my body. She has no right to question me after how many times I have saved her life and her career. My nose twitches, like a snarling muzzle of a wolf ready to bite.

“Like chasing off every bastard who tried to date you because you belong to me. Like making sure they didn’t come back to tap the well that was only mine to tap. Like paying off your debts so you could afford to eat, and opening doors for you with my power and influence you’d never have had opened for you. How do you think you got into that gallery?”

It's a lie. She did that on her own but I’m pissed at her questioning my acts and the motives behind them. She lets out an angry breath and pushes off my chest, climbing out of bed in a huff.

“I can’t believe you!” She paces, shaking her head and getting angrier by the second. “You lying sack of shit. You did what?”

“I protect what is mine.” I sit up calmly and place my feet on the floor. My authority is being tested and she will learn that she, in fact, does belong to me and she always will.

“You’re the reason I couldn’t get a second date? Because you didn’t want someone taking my virginity?” She turns on me, eyes angry and wild, and plants her hands on her hips. She’s too loud; she’ll draw attention from other tenants of this building.

I stand up and square off with her, crossing my arms over my chest. “I told you, you belong to me.”

“People don’t ‘belong’ to other people. I am not a possession. I am a person.” I love the way her nostrils flare when she’s pissed off.

“Well, you’re my possession.” Anger tightens my chest and I curl my hands into fists. “You don’t like me taking care of you?”

“That isn’t ‘taking care of me,’ Leo. That’s literally stalking. People go to jail for that.” Willow shakes her head again and runs a hand through her hair. “You’re unbelievable.” She walks toward the bathroom as if she is going to barricade herself in there to hide from me but my words halt her mid stride.

“You’re unbelievable. You know that? Not only are you not thankful for everything I’ve done, I found out that you were working with your father to drum up evidence against my father and put him away.” The minute the words leave my mouth she explodes.

“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Willow charges over to me, hand raised like she’ll smack me. I grab her wrist and look her dead in the eye.

“You heard me. You were supposed to be in love with me, but you teamed up with your father to bring my family down.”

Her lips draw up and she spits in my face. “I hate you.”

“So it’s true then!” Now my voice is too loud. This whole thing is getting out of control.

“No, it’s not true. Why would I do that to you? I loved you.” She writhes, trying to get out of my grasp and I wipe her spit from my face.

“Hold still,” I order, but she refuses.

“Let me go. I hate you. I’m leaving, and you can’t stop me. I’d rather die at the hands of my enemies than spend another second with a fucking backstabbing traitor.” The rage in her voice curdles my blood. I’ve pushed her too far this time, but she is still mine. She might have to be a caged bird, but I will never let her go.

“Shut the fuck up, Willow.”

My ears perk up to voices in the hallway, men’s voices. They’re close, maybe right outside the door.

“You shut the fuck up. I can’t believe you—”

I clamp a hand over her mouth and spin her around, holding her to my chest. She elbows me hard in the ribs and I grunt, but I don’t let her go. “Shhhh!” I hiss, listening to the voices. I swear I recognize one of them, but I am positive they both have Italian accents.

“They’re here. They had to have tracked us.”

Willow quiets instantly, no longer fighting me, and I lower my hand. “Fuck, what do we do?” The anger in her tone is gone, replaced with fear.

“Get your shoes on now. Go to the window.” The instant I let her go she races to the table where her shoes sit next to mine on the floor. I sit on the edge of the bed and cram my feet into my shoes, then go to my dresser and grab a fresh t-shirt. My wallet remains in my pocket, but my gun is on the table, so I hurry and pick it up and by the time I do, Willow is at the window.

“It’s locked. Holy fuck it’s locked.” She is panicking, probably because the man outside my door bangs on the flimsy wood with something hard.

“Leonid,” he says, drawing my name out, “we have something to discuss with you.” His accent is so thick there is no mistaking it. This man is hunting me.

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