The Don's Deadliest Obsession

A while later, hunger finally drags me out of my room.

I’ve spent most of the morning thinking about the phone call with Cassian, and after everything that happened last night, I honestly don’t have the energy to deal with anyone.

Unfortunately, my stomach doesn’t care.

It growls loudly as I step into the hallway.

”Okay. I get it.”

I rub my stomach.

”You’re hungry.”

I make my way downstairs. The house is unusually quiet.....Too quiet.

I peek into the sitting room, to find its empty.

I check the hallway but there’s nobody there.

When I reach the kitchen, I find it deserted too.

Perfect.

I don’t feel like making conversation.

I open the refrigerator and stare inside. I grab a few things and decide to make something quick.

Nothing fancy.

Just enough to shut my stomach up.

I move around the kitchen, chopping, stirring, tasting as I go. The familiar rhythm of cooking helps distract me.

For a few minutes, I don’t think about Cassian, Olivia or the meeting next week or the fact that my husband is upstairs recovering from being stabbed.

Hopefully he survived through the night.

I finish cooking and begin arranging everything onto a tray.

I’m halfway through when I hear footsteps behind me.

I glance over my shoulder.

Jeremiah.

He walks into the kitchen and gives me a brief look. ℴ

”Hey.”

”Hi.”

I turn back to my food.

That’s it. No awkward small talk, no pretending we’re friends. We don’t like each other, that much is obvious.

There’s no point pretending otherwise.

I focus on what I’m doing, determined to finish quickly and get back upstairs.

Jeremiah walks over to the table and sits down.

I can feel him watching me but I ignore him and pick up my plate. Arrange it on the tray, grab my drink.

Check everything twice.

Almost done.

Just a few more seconds and I’m out of here.

Then he clears his throat.

I pause.

”So, uh...”

I glance over my shoulder to find he looks uncomfortable.

Almost awkward.

”Thank you.”

I stare at him.

”For what?”

He looks down briefly before meeting my eyes again.

”For saving my brother’s life.”

For a second, I don’t know what to say.

I turn back to my food

”Yeah.”

I pick it up.

”You’re welcome.”

I start walking toward the door.

That’s it.

Conversation over. At least, that’s what I think.

I barely make it past him when his hand closes around my arm.

I stop immediately, my eyes dropping to his hand.

Then slowly rise to his face.

My expression hardens.

”You need to...”

”Unhand me.”

My voice is quiet.

Jeremiah freezes.

I turn fully toward him.

”Unhand me right now.”

His jaw tightens.

”And don’t ever grab me like that again.”

Something flashes across his face.

Anger maybe?

He clearly doesn’t like being spoken to that way.

Too bad.

I’m not interested in making myself smaller just because he’s Lysander’s brother.

His fingers slowly loosen and he releases me.

I step back and adjust my sleeve where he grabbed me.

For a second, neither of us says anything.

Then I pick up my tray again. I don’t bother giving him another look, i walk straight out of the kitchen.

Up the stairs, down the hallway and back into my room.

The moment I shut the door behind me, I let out a long breath.

I look down at my lunch.

At least I still have food.

I carry the tray to my bed and sit down.

Whatever Jeremiah wanted to say can stay unsaid.

I’m not interested.

Not today.

—————

I take a nap after lunch.

When I wake up again, sunlight is already spilling through the curtains, turning the room gold. For a few seconds, I lie there staring at the ceiling, completely disoriented.

I sit up slowly.

My stomach growls and I groan.

”Not again.”

I push myself out of bed and stretch, glancing around the room. I’ve spent enough time inside these four walls.

I need to know what this place looks like beyond the main rooms. More importantly, I need to know where everything is.

A mansion this large should have more than enough secrets hidden inside it and if I am going to live here, even temporarily, I refuse to be the woman who gets lost on her way to the dinning room.

I pull on a pair of comfortable shorts and a loose shirt, then slip my feet into sneakers.

I step out of my room and begin walking.

The Sanchez mansion is even more ridiculous than I realized. Every hallway seems to lead to another hallway. There are massive paintings hanging on the walls, most of them depicting men with stern faces and expensive clothes. Dead Sanchez men, I assume.

Some of them look like they would have killed me for breathing too loudly.

I pass several closed doors. There are also cameras.

A lot of them.

Small black lenses tucked into corners, watching every corridor.

I continue walking.

At some point, I realize I’ve gone farther than I intended. The familiar sounds of the main house have disappeared.

No voices, no footsteps, no distant conversations.

Just the soft sound of my sneakers against the polished floor.

I stop and turn around.

”Okay.”

I stare at the hallway behind me. It suddenly looks much longer than it did five minutes ago.

”Maybe I should have paid attention.”

I sigh and start walking back. Except I have no idea which turn I took.

Brilliant, Nerissa.

Absolutely brilliant.

I reach a junction and stare at the three different passages branching away from me.

”Left or right?”

I choose left.

Wrong.

I know that almost immediately because the hallway gets narrower and the expensive decorations disappear.

I turn around ready to head back and that’s when I see him.

A man is standing farther down the passage.

I slow to a stop.

He looks like he belongs here.

He’s tall, broad....Huge, actually.

The kind of huge that makes me instinctively straighten my spine.

His face is what catches my attention.

A thick scar stretches from the side of his jaw all the way up toward his forehead, disappearing into his hairline. Part of his hair is shaved away on that side.

I suppose the scar runs through there too.

He looks like someone who has survived things most people wouldn’t.

He notices me staring then he smiles.

Something about it makes my stomach tighten.

I force myself to relax.

”Hi.”

His eyes travel over me slowly.

I don’t like that.

”Are you lost?” he asks.

His voice is deep.

”Very.”

I give a small laugh, hoping it makes the situation less awkward.

It doesn’t.

”I was trying to find my way back to the main house.”

He looks behind me then back at me.

”I can show you.”

My instincts whisper one simple word.

Don’t.

I ignore them. Maybe because I don’t want to appear nervous.

Everyone here belongs to this mafia family.

I can’t exactly treat every person I meet like a potential murderer.

Besides, he’s probably one of the guards.

”Thanks.”

He turns around and I follow.

He walks ahead of me without saying anything.

I keep a few steps between us.

My eyes move around the unfamiliar corridor.

The further we go, the quieter it becomes.

My steps start slow.

I look back but there’s nothing, I look ahead again as the man turns into a narrower passage.

I hesitate.

That little warning inside my head gets louder.

Turn around.

I should listen, I know I should. Instead, I take another step, then another.

The passage is barely wide enough for two people.

The walls close in around us and my heartbeat picks up.

”Are we almost there?”

When he doesn’t answer i stop walking.

He takes two more steps then stops too and slowly turns around.

My stomach drops.

”Something wrong?”

He looks at me. Then his eyes flick toward the entrance of the passage.

Then back to me.

I take one step backward, turn and start running back but he moves first, he crosses the distance between us so quickly I barely have time to react.

His hand clamps around my throat and my back slams against the wall. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs.

”What the.....”

His other hand grabs me by my throat and suddenly my feet leave the floor and my entire body jerks upward.

His fingers tighten around my neck as I claw at his wrist. My sneakers scrape uselessly against the wall as I kick.

”Let... go...”

His grip is crushing.

My hands fly to his arm, trying to pry his fingers away, but he’s too strong....Way too strong.

Panic hits me like a bucket of ice water.

My heart starts pounding so hard it hurts.

I can’t breathe, I can’t get enough air.

My fingers dig into his skin but he doesn’t even flinch.

I kick harder, my heel catching his leg.

But it’s like he doesn’t feel anything, he simply tightens his hold.

My vision begins to blur around the edges.

No.

No, no, no.

Not like this. Please.