Page 8 of Unruly Obsession
Luca's lips tip up in an evil grin, the one that tells me he’s up to no good and has found ample pathways to get precisely what he wants. “I’m always expanding my fortune and power, Lorenzo. You, of all people, should know that. After all, you benefit, do you not?”
I consider the amount of money that Mr. Taylor might be worth. Luca’s wealth definitely impacts mine directly. When his expands, so does mine.
“This feels rather opportunistic, using Ara and her friend to get close to her father, doesn’t it?”
“Some tactics never fail to work. Of course, my wife isn’t to know about this. If she found out I was using her friend to exploit her father, she’d chop my balls off.”
I want to ask him why he’s willing to risk it, because I think if anyone is capable of doing precisely that, it’s Ara. But I know better than to question his scheming mind and self-assurance that he can handle matters in Italy directly.
“It might be difficult to explain Lily Taylor suddenly having a bodyguard. Her father will surely become suspicious.” I consider it, thinking carefully as to what the best angle of approach might be. Whether she agrees to my help or not isn't in question. What Luca wants, tends to happen, especially when being endorsed by Ara. From what I’ve seen of Lily so far, she’s more than accommodating and easily agreeable, even when she doesn’t want to be. In fact, it’s always irritated me to watch her submit to the wants of others. Especially because I’ve seen another side of her—a woman who takes things for herself and comes to life, instead of bending to another’s will. My mind drifts back to a memory of her lips on mine, but I’m quick to shove that thought away.
A distraction, that’s all she has been and ever will be.
“That’s why you’re going to pretend to be her boyfriend.”
A chill runs through my body, as I slowly glance up at Luca, who looks like the devil himself, all matter-of-fact with no falter in his scheme. “Boyfriend?”
The word feels like sand on my tongue, leaving a parched, bitter taste in my mouth.
Luca has the balls to laugh, and I realize I haven’t so easily concealed my expression. “You look revolted by the idea. Come on, Lorenzo. Love might not look so bad on you.”
I stare at him. No, I don’t understand my boss at all anymore. Becauseloveandboyfriendare not words that often appear in our vocabulary. We take, torture, scheme, and bury bodies to grow our power and wealth. Anything outside of that is not where my preferences or skill set lie.
“We’ve done plenty together over the years,” Luca says, straightening his paperwork and placing it to the side. “But I’ve never seen you look like you’re about to vomit at a given task. Even then, you will do as I say and follow the plan.”
I swallow, trying my hardest to push away the volatile mix in my stomach. And suddenly, it tastes like sunshine and rainbows in a package of Lily fucking Taylor. It’s not her fault. It’s not her plan. But anything that seems to include her has caused me nothing but grief, and this is going to be my biggest trial of all.
5
LILY
“No.” That's the first word that falls from my lips when Ara suggests that Lorenzo act as my boyfriend to be my personal security. I glance in his direction as he stands against the wall. When I meet his dark-brown eyes, which are already locked on me, I’m quick to avert my gaze, shutting down all the rising questions I have about this enigma of a man. I take another sip of the foul-tasting liquor. I don’t know what it is. I asked the bartender to give me something that would make me forget.
He gave me an apologetic grimace and said, "I have just the stuff."
Ara scans the room, most likely seeing who else is in the hotel bar at three in the morning, but we’re the only ones here. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here or how many drinks I’ve had.
There was an array of dresses to choose from in the suite, and I couldn’t help but think about how prepared the Armanis are. Most likely because Ara and I are similar in size. The dark dress is so different from anything I’d ordinarily wear myself, yet it seems fitting for my mood.
When I finally broke through the surface and came back to some form of reality, Ara joined me to explain that not only does her husband run the Italian Mafia, but due to a case of mistaken identity, I might’ve been targeted instead of her. Now she's running through a contingency plan to keep me "safe" until they’ve dug up the person behind the attack.
Having Lorenzo be my bodyguard and fake boyfriend is the worst plan. Ever. In fact, I’m still not entirely sure how to process all of this. It’s one thing to be targeted and almost killed. But then to be told that my best friend is not only involved with the Mafia but married to its leader, and I’m in danger by association and mistaken identity? No. That’s something I can’t comprehend right now. I take another harsh swallow of the vile drink.
I should have better sense to not want anything to do with this, with Ara and her involvement with the Mafia, but I naturally revolt against the idea. Maybe my loyalty is part of my stupidity, or maybe it doesn’t change the fact that she’s my friend.
I’m a positive person, but surely, even I have my limit as to how much I’m supposed to numbly believe or agree to. Suddenly, being told the best plan of action is to have a bodyguard and that my life might still be in danger all feels far-fetched. It’s a reality I don’t want to consider.
“It’s the surest way to keep you safe if you want to continue with your normal day-to-day life,” Ara pushes gently.
“My normal day-to-day life,” I say, pondering what my usual life looked like before this. How do I even separate the two? She winces and makes a pointed look at the drink, and I’m quick to move it away so she can’t reach it. It’s snatched out of my hand from behind.
“Hey!” I yell, and when I turn, my face practically slams into a muscular chest because of how close Lorenzo standsbehind me. His glare is challenging, those dark-brown eyes almost scolding, and I look away, unable to meet his gaze, too frightened by what I might find.
A killer?
Attraction?
Memories of flames catching on trees, and the smell of burning flesh?
