The Don's Deadliest Obsession

And unlike me, he knows exactly how to use a gun and he won’t miss.

”Lysander,” I warn.

His expression doesn’t change.

”Open. Your. Mouth.”

I hate him.

I hate his arrogance, his temper, and the infuriating certainty with which he expects everyone to obey him.

Most of all, I hate that I’m standing here, bleeding with humiliation, while he holds the upper hand even though his the one that’s bleeding.

Slowly, I part my lips and he presses the muzzle between them.

The metal is still warm, and the bitter taste of gunpowder settles against my tongue. My stomach twists, but I force myself to remain still, refusing to give him the satisfaction of watching me panic.

His eyes stay fixed on mine.

”Look at you,” he murmurs. ”You were so eager to pull that trigger a minute ago.”

I glare at him over the weapon.

He tilts his head.

”What’s wrong, pequeña revuelta, Nothing to say now?”

*Little Riot.*

I want to bite him. I want to tear into him with my teeth and make him regret every smug word that has ever left his mouth.

Instead, I stand there, trembling with rage.

Lysander withdraws the gun and straightens, examining me as though I’ve become the most tiresome problem he’s had to deal with all day.

”Next time you decide to shoot me, make sure you don’t fucking miss.”

His voice drops.

”Because next time, I might not be feeling particularly generous.”

I stare at him, my heart hammering against my ribs.

”Because this’ll be my cock. It’s much thicker than the gun. Ill watch you struggle to take it and watch you choke on my cum as punishment. Understood?”

I didn’t answer. Screw him.

I stared up at him, shaking with rage, and spat the gun out of my mouth.

He sets the gun on his desk.

Then he presses a hand against his wounded shoulder, his expression tightening briefly as the movement aggravates the injury.

”Now get your ass out of my office.”

For a moment, I don’t move.

I want to scream at him. I want to remind him that he brought this on himself, that he humiliated me in my own home, and that I would do it all over again if given the chance.

But I know when a battle is temporarily lost.

So I straighten my clothes, lift my chin, and give him the coldest look I can manage.

”This isn’t over, Lysander.”

He gives a humorless chuckle.

”I never thought it was.”

I turn and march toward the door, refusing to look back at him.

The moment I step into the corridor, I slam the door behind me.

My hands are shaking, my heart is still racing.

And the taste of gunpowder lingers in my mouth.

I hate him.

God, I hate my husband.

Fine.

If Lysander thinks he can do whatever he wants because our marriage is nothing more than a convenient arrangement, then so can I.

He wants to fuck other women? Wonderful.

I’ll find myself a man.

He wants to humiliate me? Let’s see how he likes being on the receiving end.

And if he thinks I’ll spend the rest of my evening locked in my bedroom, crying over the fact that my husband would rather have another woman’s mouth around his dick than look at me, then he has another thing coming.

I march into my bedroom and slam the door.

My fingers curling into fists.

”Asshole.”

I grab my phone and call Isabella. She answers before the second ring.

”Rissa!”

”Hey, Bella.”

”Oh my God, I was literally about to call you!”

I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it.

”Are you always this loud, or did you swallow a megaphone?”

She laughs. ”You’re hilarious. Anyway, guess what?”

”Someone finally came to their senses and called off your engagement?”

There’s a brief silence. Then she squeals.

”HOW DID YOU KNOW?”

I blink surprised.

Wait.

”What?”

”Okay, technically, nothing is officially called off yet, but Nico hasn’t contacted me all day, i checked only to find out his dead! Someone shot at him yesterday, Lysander said he’s handling everything. I don’t know what happened, but I’m choosing to believe the universe has finally decided to stop punishing me.”

I stare at the ceiling.

Well, that’s interesting.

Lysander has apparently been busy handling things.

I wonder what that means.

Then again, whatever he does is none of my business. That’s what he made abundantly clear this morning.

”That’s great, Bella,” I say, forcing enthusiasm into my voice. ”Actually, I was calling because I want to go out tonight.”

”Go out where?”

”Somewhere with loud music, drinks, and enough alcohol to make me forget that men exist.”

She bursts out laughing.

”Oh, we’re definitely going out!”

”Good. I want to party.”

”Rissa, you don’t have to tell me twice. I’ve been dying to get out of this house. Let me call Victoria. She knows all the good places.”

”Fine. But I’m warning you now, I intend to get absolutely wasted.”

”Then tonight, we’re getting wasted together!”

I hang up and toss my phone onto the bed.

By nine o’clock, I’m dressed and ready to go.

I choose a short black dress that hugs my curves, leaving my shoulders bare. I put on a pair of heels, curl my hair, and apply enough lipstick.

Perfect.

If Lysander can entertain women in his office, I can entertain myself outside his house.

I give myself one final look in the mirror before heading downstairs.

My body guard is waiting near the entrance.

”Where are you going, ma’am?”

”Out.”

He glances at my dress, then quickly returns his attention to my face.

”I will infor the Don?”

I smile sweetly.

”Absolutely not.”

”But...”

”Unless you want to spend the evening explaining to him why you have a bullet lodged somewhere unpleasant, I suggest you let me enjoy my night.”

His mouth closes.

Smart man.

I walk past him and climb into the waiting car.