Page 104 of Veil of Obsession
Nothing.
Silent. Cold. Brutal.
He opens the passenger door and shoves me inside, slamming it shut before I can move. A second later, he’s in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel, his jaw clenched so tight I swear I hear his teeth grind.
I swallow hard, glancing at the door handle.
Can I run? Would he chase me? Would he shoot me in the street like the traitor he thinks I am?
Before I can even consider it, the locks click. The engine roars to life. He peels out of the parking lot like a demon chasing hell.
I brace myself, gripping the seat as the speedometer climbs.
He’s driving too fast. Too reckless. Like he doesn’t give a fuck about anything anymore.
Has he ever given a fuck to begin with?
The silence between us is thick, suffocating, drowning me in uncertainty. I chance a glance at him. His knuckles are white, his expression unreadable, carved from stone.
I lick my lips, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Lucio, please. Tell me what you’re going to do.”
Nothing. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.
I shake my head, my throat tightening. “Are you taking me to Emiliano? To your brothers?”
Still nothing. The tension in my chest sharpens, slicing through my ribs, pressing against my lungs.
“Lucio, say something!”
He just presses harder on the gas.
The first stopis at a gas station. Lucio doesn’t say a word as he steps out, fills the tank, and grabs some bottles of water and a bag of food from the convenience store.
I don’t try to run. Not because I don’t want to, but because I know he’d catch me. Because some fucked-up part of me still trusts him.
He gets back in the car and starts driving again.
Still nothing. The silence is suffocating, thick with tension. With words unspoken. With accusations hanging between us like ghosts.
I take a deep breath, trying again. “Lucio, please. Where are we going?”
No answer. He just keeps driving. And that’s when I notice.
We’re leaving New York.
The skyline shrinks in the distance, swallowed by the night, the highways stretching longer, emptier. My stomach tightens.
“Lucio—”
“Give me your phone.” The words cut through the silence like a blade, cold and sharp.
I blink, glancing at him. “What?”
His eyes stay on the road, his expression unreadable. “Give me your fucking phone, Princess.”
Something sinks deep in my gut. “Why?”
His jaw locks, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Phone. Now.”
