Page 39 of Deadly Obsession
My best friend does a little celebration in her seat, which is interrupted by her father leaning over and stabbing his fork through Del’s left hand, nailing it to the table.
“What the fuck, Giovanni?” Noah screams, standing abruptly enough her chair topples to the floor.
I yelp, also standing to back away. Elias moves in front of me, but I can still see the action at the table.
Del grunts and rips the fork out of his hand. Blood pours out of the top and bottom, soaking the white tablecloth red.
Ugh. I don’t mind a little blood, but that? No, thank you! I bury my face into Elias’s back, gripping the fabric of his suit jacket.
“That’s for killing my head of security,” Gio says.
Then I hear the chair creak as he sits down and the silverware clink on the plate when he resumes eating.
Chapter 10 – Elias
Ishould go to my brother, make sure he’s okay. Ishould.But Sage’s body is flush with my back and she’s shaking.
I turn to her and palm her cheek. “Are you okay?”
She looks up into my eyes, her tanned face pale and tears pooling in her eyes.
“I’m fine,” she whispers. “I just need to get out of here.”
I glance at Noah, and she gives me a nod, letting me know she can take care of Lance. I grab Sage’s hand and pull her out of the room.
She looks like she’s seconds away from throwing up.
I call my driver as we walk down the hallway and by the time we make it outside, he’s pulling up. I don’t even care to retrieve the weapons I handed over to Lenetti’s security and open the door for Sage. After helping her inside the tall SUV, I walk around and get in.
“Where do you live?” I ask as the driver pulls away.
She stares out the window, hands twisting in her lap.
“Sage,” I say a little more forcefully this time.
She sucks in a quick but shaken breath. “Take me to your place.”
I want to question her, ask her why she’sstillrefusing to tell me where she lives, but she’s shutting down on me, and I’m desperate not to lose her again.
I nod to my driver, and we head to Brooklyn Heights. I bought an apartment building there last year and moved into the penthouse. It’s one of the many homes or apartments I have throughout Queens and Brooklyn but it’s my favorite by far. The building sits on the New York Harbor waterfront with views of the Manhattan skyline and the Brooklyn Bridge.
After a fifteen-minute drive, we pull up to the front of a thirty-story building. One of my soldiers is there waiting to open the door.
I take Sage’s hand in mine and walk toward the building’s entrance.
When I bought this place, I increased security measures. I hired ex-military as guards, installed cameras throughout the building, and added a key card scanner for my penthouse that only my most trusted men have access to.
The tenants have been vetted by my head of security and my tech guy. A handful of my soldiers also live in units so I can have them close when needed.
If Sage notices the big men in suits at the entrance, she doesn’t say anything. We enter my private elevator, and it starts moving after I tap a card on the reader.
Sage snorts, and it’s the first emotion to come out of her since witnessing Lenetti stab my brother with a fork and shutting down.
“Something funny?” I tease, squeezing her hand.
Does she realize we’re still holding hands?
“How rich are you?”
