Page 9 of The Obsession
“What about her?” I ask around a mouthful of pasta. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d done his research on me before coming here, and I’m not sure how I’m going to explain that clusterfuck if he has.
He studies me the way a man studies a loaded gun, cautious and curious. “You taking care of her?”
In a roundabout way. “That’s the plan.”
Romeo hums under his breath, cutting into his steakwith unnecessary force. “You don’t seem like the nurturing type.”
I don’t reply to his comment; I keep chewing, swallowing, and ignoring both sets of eyes that are now pinned on me.
“Is she in trouble?” Dante presses.
“She’s family,” I say simply. It’s both an answer and a refusal to give him anything more.
The table goes quiet. The only sound is the scrape of cutlery and the low hum of conversation from the other side of the restaurant.
I’m not purposely trying to be obtuse. He is the Don and commands loyalty and respect. He’ll always get that from me, but what I do in my downtime is my own fucking business.
Dante finally nods, like he’s decided to let it go. “Family’s family. Just remember where your loyalties lie.”
I meet his gaze. “I won’t forget.”
“Good. Then eat. You’re going to need the strength.”
I force another forkful of pasta into my mouth, even though the taste has gone flat. His words have my stomach twisting, but I keep eating anyway. I may not want this job, but I need it.
Pushing shit aside is what I do best, because if I stop long enough to think about it all—Lil’ Peach, my sister, and the mess waiting for me outside this restaurant—I might not start moving again.
The vibration of the phone lying facedown on the table cuts through the silence. Dante picks it up and glances at the screen, his expression shifts, barely, but enough to make Romeo lean over. A message glows between them, and whatever it says alters the air in the room.
Dante exhales through his nose, slides the phone into his pocket, and stands. Romeo’s chair scrapes against the floor as he does the same, signalling that this meeting is over.
“I’ll have you over the house later this week to do the initiation,” Dante says, rebuttoning his suit jacket with a precision that feels rehearsed.
I look up from my plate with my brows pinched. “Initiation?”
“The blood oath,” is his only reply. His tone is calm, almost casual, like he’s mentioning a change in the weather.
He starts to move, his black, polished dress shoes barely making a sound against the floor. When he passes behind me, his hand lands briefly on my shoulder, a gesture that’s supposed to feel reassuring, but instead, sends a chill crawling down my spine.
“Stay and finish your lunch,” he says. “I’ll be in touch.” And then he’s gone.
For a long moment, I sit and stare at the half-eaten meal in front of me. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses drifts from another table, but it feels far away.
I place down my cutlery and scrub a hand across my face as the weight of it all settles in my chest.
The blood oath. I’ve heard about it. The ceremony that binds a man to the Cosa Nostra for life. A drop of blood, a prayer to their saints, a promise sealed in fire, and loyalty. Once you take it, you don’t just join them, you belong to them. There’s no backing out, no second thoughts, no walking away. The only way out is in an unmarked box.
What in the fuck have I gotten myself into?
I’m pulled from my thoughts when Emily, the waitress, approaches the table. She gives me that kind of look people reserve for stray dogs. It’s sympathetic and a little unsure.
“Are you okay?” she asks, surprising me with her question.
I’m so taken aback by her concern that I can only grunt in response. This woman is too good for this fucked-up world, and again, I’m left wondering who left that bruise onher wrist. If I’m honest, the thought of someone hurting her makes me murderous, and I don’t even know why.
Unperturbed by my rudeness, she glances around the table at the half-eaten spread in front of me. “Would you like me to box up the leftovers?”
When I nod, she gives me a small smile and starts gathering plates. I lean back, letting her move around me, my mind returning to the blood oath that’s supposed to make me family.
