Page 67 of Veil of Obsession
My breath catches. I don’t turn around.
“No, I won’t.”
Lucio chuckles, dark and knowing. “You will.”
I grip the handle tighter, my knuckles turning white.
“You’re not the type to let things go, Princess. You’re obsessive. Addictive. I bet you’re already thinking about me, about how that kiss made you feel. You’ll try to convince yourself that you don’t care, that it doesn’t mean anything.” He pauses, voice dropping lower. “But you’ll come back the second you realize you’re lying to yourself.”
I suck in a sharp breath, my stomach twisting.
He’s wrong. He has to be.
Without another word, I shove the door open and slip out, my pulse roaring in my ears as I force myself to walk away.
But long after I step outside, after the cool evening air hits my overheated skin, after I put so much distance as I can between myself and Lucio…
I can still feel him. His mouth on mine. His hands on my waist. His words, lingering in my mind.
And that’s what terrifies me the most.
25
Lucio
Fuck! Why do I even care that she’s retreating?
I shouldn’t want to pull her back into my orbit. Shouldn’t want to keep her obsessed. But for some fucking reason, I keep trying to pull her back into my life when she tries to back out.
She’s a wild card, one I can neither control nor predict, and that fact alone should have me running in the opposite direction, but I’ve never been one to not enjoy attention. Especially from someone who actually intrigues me, interests me. But for the life of me, I can’t figure the fucking reason for this sick fascination with some girl who has been stalking me.
That kiss was explosive, and I don’t think I’ll ever get to experience something like that again. Not unless she lets me. And from the looks of it, we’ll be playing this back-and-forth dance for the rest of eternity. It’s driving me fucking insane as I tug at the roots of my hair.
I kick my small coffee table out of the way as I head toward my liquor cabinet. Ditching the glass, I drink straight out of the bottle. The vodka burns its way down my throat; I wince, wipingat the corners of my mouth I try to think of something, anything, to numb whatever it is I’m feeling.
This shit isn’t supposed to happen. I don’t do feelings, for fuck’s sake. I’ve spent so long avoiding looking at my thoughts to just have them be stomped all over by some short, curvy Asian girl. And that shit pisses me off.
The glass bottle shatters against the wall, the clear liquid sliding down the pristine walls of my apartment. I’d usually drown myself with alcohol and girls when my thoughts get too much, but even that is not possible now. Because I don’t want anybody but her. I’ve barely had a taste, and I’m already fucking addicted.
I need a fucking cold shower.
“Any progresswith finding the shitface who’s been fucking up our business?” Emiliano directs his question to Matteo, who’s sitting beside me.
Matteo shakes his head. “No. Whoever is behind this is clever enough not to leave any evidence that could tie them back to the scene. I’m still combing through the footage from the night of the event, but it’s really hard to figure anything out when there’s no cameras facing the area where the Hoffman girl was found. But the last person she was talking to was some British business empire heir.”
“Have you looked into him?”
Matteo slides Emiliano a folder. “That has all the information you need to know about the British guy. I doubt it’s him because he was seen leaving the event an hour before the estimated death time.”
I’m on edge, unsure how close they are to finding out her true identity.
“Lucio.”
“What?” I ask Eli.
“I’ve called your name three times. What the hell could be so important that you’re zoning out in the middle of a fucking meeting?” His gaze narrows on me as if he can read what the hell is on my mind.
I run a hand through my hair, a little frustrated.
