Page 55 of Unruly Obsession
He laughs. “Not before you kill this guy, I hope. He looks like the handsy type.”
I'm seeing red, especially after I specifically told her she wasn’t going on any date.
Over my dead fucking body.
I hang up, bringing up the tracker on her phone.
And she wanted me to give her privacy, I internally scoff.
This woman is driving me fucking insane.
22
LILY
An awkward silence fills the space as I sit across from Riley Timber. Despite my original preconception of a man in his late forties, he’s objectively attractive. However, as he smiles and charms the server, I’m left to fidget with my hands beneath the table. I can now see why he’s already had two wives.
I gulp down half my champagne, trying my best to eat away the nerves. I’m not nervous about being on the date, just about everything this entails. I can see the domino effect. My father will try to pressure us into a quick engagement, ship me off into a loveless marriage, and force me to leave New York for Los Angeles, where Riley is based.
The restaurant has been entirely booked out, and we sit alone in the dining room, a clear show of his money. My only small comfort is the hound who sits outside in front of the neighboring restaurant.
I came here under my brother’s recommendation, but I hate being here. It’s not easy to shove it down anymore when all I want is to be heard. I feel my world shrinking, and even if I wanted to ask for help, who would I turn to?
The first person who comes to mind is Lorenzo, and I quickly try to shake away the idea of that. Lorenzo isn’t someone who can quietly help me wipe away my problems. No, he’ll burn them to the ground in a devastating manner. There is no in-between or balance with someone like Lorenzo. And even then, it’s presumptuous to think he’d even care to help when he’ll so easily reject me and remind me it’s not part of his "job" or "mission."
“That’ll be all, honey,” he says charismatically to the server. She bites her bottom lip, avoiding my gaze as she saunters off. I take a sip of my drink, needing all the help I can get tonight.
Considering my father is addicted to alcohol, I’ve never overtly liked it, but I do enjoy the freedom it gives me, even if it's temporary.
“So, I hear you have a cute hobby selling flowers,” Riley says. “Do you plan on selling the shop soon?”
I offer a polite smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes. “Cute is an interesting word to describe my business.”
“Well, it is. And surely you don’t make that much money with it. Considering you went to Harvard, surely your skills are better utilized elsewhere. Not that you’ll have to use them if this date goes well.”
My manicured nails dig into my thighs as I bite my tongue. “And if this date doesn’t go well?”
His harsh gaze meets mine. He’s just like my father, sharing the same mentality toward women. I braced myself for it, half expected it. But I don’t have it in me to pretend or even hide my distaste.
Why am I even here?
I tried so hard to prepare myself for this, but it’s like all that energy of pretending has finally reached its limit.
The only person I can still care for is my mother. Because if I don’t have the fight in me anymore to pretend I’m the good daughter, and I'm cut from the family… what will happen to her?
Riley scoffs. “Do you desire more than simply a dinner at the restaurant I own for this date? Name your price. A helicopter ride over the city? Diamonds? Tell me what it is that impresses Henrith Taylor's daughter on a first date? No amount of money is too much.”
“The problem is she’s already taken,” a rough voice says from behind me.
Dread runs through me at the lethalness that hangs off each word. I slowly turn and face Lorenzo, who is dressed immaculately in his usual suit that doesn’t entirely hide the danger he exudes.
“And who are you?” Riley scoffs at Lorenzo. My heart starts pounding, and it’s the first burst of adrenaline I’ve felt this entire evening. I shouldn’t be surprised he’s here, but I didn’t expect him to get here so soon. I thought I’d at least have until the end of the night. I briefly glance in the direction where the hound was sitting, realizing he’s no longer there.
“Who I am is irrelevant. This woman belongs to me. Look at her again or try to contact her, and we'll have a problem,” Lorenzo growls. “Get up, we’re leaving,” he orders me.
I’m torn. I don’t want to be here, but I don't want another man telling me what to do, treating me like property.
That’s when Lorenzo’s dark-brown gaze slices over to me expectantly, and I can see the rage unfurling there. I’m out of my mind for choosing to leave with the most dangerous man I’ve ever met, and yet, I find myself standing, as if charmed, a part of me almost grateful thatsomeonecame for me at all.
