Page 67 of Unruly Obsession
“Yes, sir.”
“With that said, I want you to meet with Henrith Taylor. Advise him his daughter's life is at risk, and that for the right price, we’re willing to take away his problems.”
My mouth goes dry. “You want me to use her as a bargaining chip, sir?” Every word tastes like ash as I say it. Izak looks up from his laptop, but I turn my back to him, unsure what my expression is giving away right now.
“Is that a problem, Lorenzo?” Luca’s voice cuts lethally through the phone.
I hesitate, thinking of Lily and how she'd react if she were to find out. I’d be no better than her father, using her for strategic gain. I almost feel resentful toward Luca. The moment that hits me, I pull the brakes on any type of strangled emotion rolling through me.
No.
Luca’s word is law.
“No, sir.” I can barely swallow. “I do, however, think Ara will have concerns if she discovers we’re using her friend as a bargaining tool.”
“Ara won’t know about any of this. If I didn’t know any better, Lorenzo, I’d say you’re getting soft on Lily.”
I close my eyes, cursing silently. Using Ara as an excuse feels almost like a desperate attempt to… to what? Protect Lily? Defy my boss?
“Nothing to worry about, sir. I’ll update you once I’ve had the meeting.”
“Good. I’ll be wrapping things up here and returning to New York soon.” The phone cuts out, and I hold it so tightly I’m certain it’ll crack into a million pieces in my hands.
Since when have I ever had a conscience before?
28
LILY
Sky’s leg dangles over the sofa while he whistles an irritating tune. I was fortunate enough to find my favorite iced tea in the fridge, until I realized Lorenzo must’ve been stocking it in the off chance I’d be here. As I forage through the pantry and fridge, I notice all of my favorite foods.
I look at the spectacular state of Lorenzo’s house, still in disbelief that such a brute calls this his home, when I contemplated once he might’ve lived in a cave. I’m smiling into my tea as I think about the ongoing joke.
Hot flashes rush over my skin as I think back to only hours ago; his lips on mine, the way he devoured me and left me sore and bruised. I’ll have marks for days, and yet… I welcome it to happen again.
My life is a chaotic mix of events—the shooting, Lorenzo and me, how my father will respond—yet, I choose to focus on the excited flutters in my stomach opposed to the harsh reality of tomorrow.
I don’t enjoy violence or intimidation; ordinarily, I’m scared of it. But I know Lorenzo will never hurt me, which makes it thatmuch more peculiar to discover Ilikepain from a man who's ten years my senior, no less.
The moment Lorenzo and Sky switched places, I decided to explore his home. I want to know more about the man who is slowly opening up to me, and I feel guilty for not doing the same for lying about the scar between my shoulders. But that opens up a whole lot of baggage I don’t want to drag anyone else into.EspeciallyLorenzo.
I peek into his office. It matches the rest of the home. Dark woods, deep greens, and browns. I lean back into the hallway, looking over my shoulder, but when I see Sky is distracted, messing around on his phone, I slip inside. I’m certain Lorenzo would kick his ass if he knew Sky's attention wasn't one hundred percent on me, but I’m grateful for the tiny bit of freedom.
My hand grazes over the emerald couch situated next to a side table. Everything about this home screams bachelor pad. And evil spy. Even his wardrobe consists of identical suits. I find myself nibbling at my bottom lip, almost amazed that I get to see this domestic side of him. I wonder how often he actually stays here. He certainly hasn’t since he’s been with me, but the place is still in an immaculate state.
The light from the living room and kitchen stretches in a stripe across the room, almost like a spotlight on his wooden desk. I peruse some of the titles in his floor-to-ceiling bookshelves spanning one wall, surprised to find a lot of classics. Some in other languages, mostly Italian.
I look back over my shoulder at the door, half expecting Sky to be standing there, but when he’s not, I round the desk.
I’m so curious about Lorenzo and his world. What does a man like him do in his spare time? His desk doesn’t have much on it—a laptop, a pen, and a piece of paper with a few numbers scribbled on it. Stealing one more glimpse at the door, I open the top drawer, then look down.
Inside the desk is a gun and knife. My breath hitches the moment I spot the weapons, but they don't affect me in the same way they might’ve months ago. Somehow, I’ve become almost used to the dangers of his world.
However, it’s not the weapons that catch my curiosity but the corner of a partially burned photo. When I pull it out, my eyes widen, connecting the dots as to who’s in the picture. I can tell by his eyes. The tall, lanky one who looks like he’s only just hit puberty has the same dark-brown eyes as Lorenzo. But it’s his scowling expression that gives him away.
I’m smiling because it doesn’t surprise me that Lorenzo's expression seemed just as sour even then. He stands behind a slightly shorter boy, that I assume is his younger brother. He has slightly longer hair than Lorenzo, but they have the same eyes, and he's missing one tooth at the front.
My heart stops when I see the little girl, her long, brown hair pulled back into two pigtails.Milia.
