Page 32 of Deadly Obsession
Elias... he was the one who found her. I don’t know how old he is, but I’m assuming he’s in his thirties now. If his mother was killed twenty years ago, then that means he was probably only fifteen or sixteen. And for it to happen on Christmas Eve?
Noah didn’t go into details about Del and Elias’s mother’s death, and I wasn’t about to ask. I’m already sick to my stomach about everything that’s happened to her. Especially now that she believes her father is the one who placed the kill order on all the mafia wives and children.
They just need more concrete proof.
“So you’re not mad at me?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“Never. I’m honestly more upset that you kept this badass part of your life secret, but I understand why you had to.”
A silence falls between us, and I’m not sure if Noah is waiting for me to ask her more questions.
I have a million, but instead, I blurt out, “I slept with Elias again.”
She chokes on her drink, making her cough.
“In a bathroom at the party last night.”
My cheeks heat, and I tell myself it’s the vodka and not me remembering how hot it was watching Elias fuck me in the mirror’s reflection.
“Sage, I’ve never seen you flustered over a man before,” Noah says, amused.
“I’m not flustered.”
“You definitely are.”
“Fine, but it’s because he’s frustrating. I can’t stand him.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. I never want to see him again.”
“Liar.”
I groan. “Okayyyy, you win! He’s the best fuck of my life, but he’s controlling andthat’swhat I hate. But at the same time, it’s sexy as hell. I just... I want to tie him up. Blindfold him. Give him a few welts with my riding crop.”
I need it more than ever after Chase’s visit this morning. I could get on the Madam app, but it’s solely virtual. Or Icould go to the sex club. Spank a few subs and order them to lick my pumps.
It wouldn’t be the same.
It wouldn’t be Elias.
“Oh, you’ve got it bad for him.”
“What?” I squeak, Noah’s voice surprising me and pulling me from my thoughts. “No. I don’t. He’s a good lay. That’s it.”
“Sure. Keep lying to yourself.” She points at my glass, and my eyes widen, not even realizing I drank it all. “Want another?”
I shake my head. “No. One more and I’ll be tipsy, and I have a shift at the bar in an hour.”
“Are you off on Saturday?”
I nod.
“Good. Come to dinner at my father’s.”
“Your father who’s a mafia boss? The man who you suspect is responsible for ordering a hit on a bunch of people? The man who just shot your new fiancé? Congrats, by the way.”
