Page 77 of Distorted Obsession

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mason

Staringout the window at the Atlanta cityscape as the sun sets, I appreciate its beauty. I’m at peace in this moment. Relaxing my shoulders, I allow myself to let all the pressures roll away.

I forget about our struggling family business.

I forget about all my plans for revenge.

I forget about the arranged marriage that is being leveraged to save our company.

But most of all, I forget about the honey-brown eyes with flecks of green, smooth bronze skin that looks like it’s been sun-kissed, and the killer smile that momentarily allowed me to pretend my intentions are pure.

Eva Rose

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Liam’s knowing grin tells me I’ve been caught.

“Maybe.”

Smirking, he retorts, “All it took was a smile and those beautiful brown orbs to land on you, and you’re questioning the entire plan you’ve concocted.”

My nostrils flare at his accusation. “Not all of us are simps.” I pause before turning to peer straight into his eyes to make sure he understands my next point clearly. “She may look good, Lee, but no piece of ass is more important than getting retribution for our family.”

“You say that now,” he argues. “But, Eva is?—”

I don’t let him finish. “She’s necessary collateral. End. Of. Story,” I growl, holding onto the anger. It’s the only way to drown the part of me that remembers how she looked at me like I mattered.

Liam snickers, but I swivel my gaze back out the window. This time, instead of finding serenity in the dusky sky, I see angry, orange-red clouds that match my sentiments about this whole situation.

Struggling family business—the Pierce family’s doing.

My plans for revenge—the Pierce family’s doing.

This goddamn arranged marriage to a vapid Southern socialite—the fucking Pierce family’s doing.

Everything wrong in my life stems from them. How could I ever let the scent of jasmine and chamomile cloud my brain and turn me stupid? The simple answer is I can’t—I won’t.

The car ride is quiet until we’re about three blocks from our grandparents’ estate.

“What’s the plan?” Liam murmurs. There’s a slight trepidation in his tone. He’s not at all comfortable with any part of this.

Reaching up, I massage the worry line I know is creasing between my eyebrows. The reminder that each inch closer to my grandparents’ house is a second closer to the invisible shackles locking around my feet. I clench my fists before I answer. “We toe the line. There isn’t much that can be done until we have an idea of what Grams and Pops have planned.”

The idea of being attached to the vapid Hillary Banks clone makes my skin crawl. Lillian Langston is a spoiled socialite with entitlement issues. Her whole family is the definition ofnot all skin folk are kinfolk.Between their classist ideals and colorist discriminatory views, I’m disgusted to be associated with them in any way. I can still remember overhearing her mother talk about how fortunate I was that I had a nice complexion.

My jaw tenses at the memory, and my stomach churns knowing I’ll have to spend too much time in their presence.

Groaning, I return my attention to my brother before I continue, “So, at this moment, it’s best if we play along.”

Liam rubs the bridge of his nose, and I can see the wheels in his head churning for a way out—but there’s no way, not when Adeila Bradley is the matriarch of the family.

“Don’t bother trying to scheme our way out of this, Liam. Grams would hand us our asses before you can formulate a plan.”

“We can’t just do nothing, Mase. Any association with the Langstons is bound to be disastrous,” he rebuts.

I sigh as the car rolls to a momentary stop and watch as the driver punches in the code to open the gate. “I know, Lee. That’s why we can’t go soft on our revenge on the Pierce family.”

His lips twist before they part, “I still don’t think Eva’s the answer to our problems.”

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