Page 21 of Mafia Obsession

A clawing need to be close to her, to smell her, to remind her that I’ve not gone quietly into the shadows, is stifled by the stronger need to wait and strike later when I have everything in place to make her mine.

“Sir,” my driver’s voice pipes up over the chorus of impatient horns targeting our motorcade. “Wall Street will gridlock if we don’t?—”

“I’m aware of the traffic,” I snap, low and controlled, though my attention can’t be torn from this woman who holds a key to an unknown door to my soul.

Meetings will wait. Approvals will wait. The world can wait while I get the fix I need.

The blearing sound of the horns captures her attention, and she looks our way. Right at me. But she doesn’t see me.

From behind tinted windows, I say, “Drive.”

I retrieve my phone from my suit jacket again and call my brother Atlas.

He answers on the second ring. “The king graces me with a call.”

“I need a desk installed outside my office,” I say without preamble or that he addresses me as the king.

Atlas pauses. “Why?”

“A new hire will be starting soon,” I tell him. “That’s where she’ll work from.”

“Her? For what? You have six assistants on the seventh floor.” He questions me, like he’s forgotten who he’s talking to.

“I don’t answer to you.” I end the call before he can respond.

The marrow in my bones feels repositioned as a chess piece is now set directly in my path for acquisition.

And whether Lourdes realizes it yet or not, she is the queen who is already in play.

Chapter 8

Lourdes

Ipush open the crackled glass entrance door to the office with my shoulder, balancing the cardboard tray of coffees carefully in both hands. I’m greeted by chaos in the office and the overwhelming smell of cardboard.

For a moment, my mind refuses to process what I’m seeing. Marisol is at her desk, but it’s half empty. Dismantled. The framed photo of her two boys is even gone.

Was she fired?

But Benny is packing, too, tossing file folders into boxes.

Washefired as well?

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice shakier than I intend.

Marisol looks up at me, her dark curls hanging in front of her face. “We’re moving!” Her excited eyes calm me down.

I breathe in relief.

“Where, the third floor?” I recall Nathan mentioning something about moving to a smaller office.

“Out of state,” she says, like I should have known this. “We’ve been bought.”

“Bought? By who? Andwhatstate?” I ask brusquely.

A fragile and foolish hope perks up inside me that she’ll say we’re moving to Chicago.

“Elizabeth, New Jersey,” Benny answers without looking up. “We’ve been told to start packing.”