The Maddest Obsession (Made, #2)

by Danielle Lori

swallowed. “A woman likes some passion and spontaneity in her life. You, Officer, need to loosen up.” “Should I fuck other women in her bed? Spontaneous enough, you think?” God, he just had to know about Sydney.

Not surprising. When someone met me, they didn’t forget me. Except for one woman, anyway. My face had been a curse when I was a kid, but now, I took advantage of it. To intimidate, to manipulate, to get whatever I wanted. Power. Information. Women. Ironic, that the one thing I now wanted, I couldn’t fucking have.

His grip tightened on my shirt, and I stumbled a step closer. He was too close, and I had to place a hand on his stomach to catch myself from falling flush against him. His abs tightened beneath my palm, but his expression remained unmoved. “Regardless of what you might believe, Gianna, I’m a grown man. Dress appropriately in front of me next time.”

My business overseas had taken longer than I thought, but one month shouldn’t be long enough to come home and find Gianna fucking married. Hearing the news, nonchalantly, from Ace on the phone had felt like a blow to the stomach. It stole my fucking breath, turned my blood to fire. I’d lost it. I’d destroyed every goddamn computer in that room. I’d known, if I touched Gianna, it would be over for me. I’d known she would feel too good to ever go back. But, Jesus, I wasn’t a saint. She was half-naked, her tits in my face, and I’d dreamed about them for so long I had to know what they tasted like. They tasted like they belonged to me; like they were mine.

knew that had nothing to do with it. When she was close, all I could focus on was that she smelled like temptation. Like something I wanted to worship and degrade at the same time.

She’d just had to prod that one spot—that one weakness of mine—to make me lose my grasp on control. She’d been right about my mother. I could only imagine the look on her pretty face if she knew I’d been the one to put the bitch out of her depraved fucking misery.

The next time she spoke back to me, I just needed to fill her mouth with something more productive. The image of her, on her knees, looking up at me with soft brown eyes, played in my mind. It sent a rush of heat to my groin. Made my blood rush in my ears.

could change everything so fast. Make her a single woman. Make her want me. Make her mine. The plan began to weave itself in my mind, and when I felt a tremble in the hand still wrapped around her throat, I shut it down fast. Her pulse beat quickly, expressing her

would have killed anyone else who’d provoked me like she had. But somehow, the idea of her lifeless body made my stomach tighten in denial. I often wished she was a problem I could just make disappear—though, oddly enough, her death had always been a hard no for me. She looked bored. “Say something in Russian.” This was a moment I would love to fill her mouth with something more productive.

let her go rougher than I should have, and then hated myself for feeling a twinge of regret. Couldn’t kill her. Couldn’t even hurt her. What the hell would I even do with her? My dick immediately took over, flashing images through my mind of her naked on my bed, ass up, head-down, as she clutched the sheets and begged me for more. Obviously, I had some ideas.

Contempt spread like frostbite in my chest. I turned to look at her, ignored the soft curves of her body as she leaned against the wall where I’d put her. “Fortunately for Russia, their women seem to have a little more self-respect than to drop their clothes for a man they hate. Guess I needed a change of scenery.”

“Sometimes an opportunity presents itself and I take it. It has nothing to do with you or my cock.” Unless it involves Gianna Marino, anyway. I’d always convinced myself I disliked Nico because he was impulsive and reckless. But I knew that was just an excuse for the real reason: he’d fucked her. If I couldn’t fuck her, nobody could fuck her. It was that simple. The idea of anyone touching her was a nauseating pill I refused to swallow.

The words were filled with arrogance and amusement. “A hundred bucks says I could make her that wet.” It was a stupid bet and an even stupider joke, but the fact it came from an Abelli mouth only amplified the tension. Something shifted in the air. The slight lift of a murderer’s lips after a kill. A starving dog catching the scent of blood. “Watch your goddamn mouth,” Luca snapped. “That’s the wife of a capo you’re talking about.” The Abelli who sat toward the middle of the room, his ankle resting on his knee, scoffed. “A capo on his deathbed. She’s practically fair game now.” I shifted on my heels, waiting for the smallest cue to get the hell out of here.

“Touch one of our women against her will and see how fairly we’ll treat you,” Ricardo growled. “Against her will?” The Abelli laughed. “I could have her begging for my cock in no time.” Hardly. Salvatore Abelli appeared almost amused at the exchange, and Ace only sat there, leaning back in his chair, not in any hurry to stop the words from being hurtled back and forth. His eyes expressed how ridiculous he thought this was, but he seemed resigned to let it play out. And I knew why: I was the perfect experiment to see how the families would react to the other’s taunts. “Keep laughing,” said someone else. “Everyone knows you have to pay for any of the pussy you get.” A few laughs broke out. The Abelli’s face reddened. “I’d get more than that. I’ll tell you how her ass feels, Rus—”

Without a look in the Abelli’s direction, Allister pulled a pistol from his jacket. Pop. The gunshot reverberated off the walls and rang in my ears. Everything but my heart went still. I stared, watched the Abelli slump from his chair to the floor. It was so quiet I could hear each drop of water falling from my dress to the concrete floor. Drip . . . drip . . . drip. A chill passed through me as Christian put the pistol away without a flicker of emotion. Tony Abelli wiped blood splatter from his face. Luca shook his head. Ace loo...

“Ty samaya krasivaya zhenshchina kotoruyu ya kogda-libo videl.” “What did you say?” “You’re annoying.” “I would hate to be Russian if it takes that many words to say something so simple,” I

My lungs squeezed, tightening and tightening with a band that wouldn’t release. Tears burned the backs of my eyes. Two rough hands grasped my face. “Breathe.” His touch dimmed my papà’s voice in my mind. I was suddenly envious of Allister; my nightmares were terrified of him. I shut my eyes, focusing on the breathing techniques my therapist taught me. “We’ll get a Plan B.” His thumb brushed away the tear running down my cheek. I nodded, shaky.

Keep her. Make her want you. Make her need you. Fuck, I shouldn’t have done it. It was like trying to cure an addict by giving him the best goddamn hit of his life.

My heart rate sped up, heat running to my groin. I was already hard for her again. It hadn’t been my plan to fuck her, but once I had my hands on her I couldn’t stop. You’d think it would have given me some relief, but all it seemed to have done was provide me with more images, noises, and real-estate to obsess over. My eyes coasted over the emergency contraceptives, and I grabbed one to read the information on the back. My hand was shaking. Fucking ridiculous. You’d think I’d just lost my virginity.

An obsessive part of me—the one thoroughly fixated on Gianna’s every move—didn’t give a shit about consequences. Knocking her up would make its fucking day.

Gianna hadn’t said a word to me since we left the parking garage. She couldn’t have made it clearer that the idea of being stuck with me horrified her—she’d had a full-blown panic attack, for fuck’s sake.

would have found the will to hold myself back if I knew how she’d react. Watching tears fill her eyes was like a stab and a twist to the chest. I didn’t fucking like it.

She looked at the pill I’d handed to her in reluctance. “The last time I took one of these it screwed up my cycle for two months.” The thought that she’d had to take one before sent a bite of jealousy through me. “Then don’t take it.” She scoffed. “I’m not shipping my child to Russia every summer, Allister.” She wouldn’t be sending him or her anywhere. She’d be in my home, in my bed. I’d give her anything she wanted—anything but my past and some silly notion of love. Although, I didn’t believe she’d be searching for the latter. She’d been burned enough. I hated any man who’d broken her heart, but in the end, they’d made it easy for me.

“You aren’t wearing this downstairs, Gianna. There are kids around.” “Don’t pretend you’re concerned about traumatized children.” His arm was tight around my waist, his body pressed against my nearly-naked one. My blood was boiling and stealing my breath. He dropped me to my feet in front of my apartment. Took the keys from my hand and, annoyingly, unlocked the door in a single try. “Go find a swimsuit that covers your ass.” I put my hands on my hips defiantly. “Those aren’t in style anymore.” “We both know you don’t follow fashion trends.” “Since when do you regulate what I wear?” “Since you’ve clearly lost the competence to do it yourself.” I opened my mouth, but before I could protest again, he cut me off with that lord-and-master tone. “It’s not happening, Gianna.”

refused to stay in a hotel because I refused to let Gianna know how deeply she was under my skin. I couldn’t even look at the woman, let alone be near her, without fighting the urge to do things I probably shouldn’t. Like tie her to my bed and make her come, over, and over again, just so I could watch the fire go soft in her eyes.

Who knew what his excuse was—a stray eyelash on her cheek, a hair out of place, her soft skin was distracting—whatever the fuck it was, he was going to touch her. Over my goddamn body. As I walked past the front counter, I grabbed his wrist before his hand could make contact with a strand of her hair, shooting him a touch-her-and-I’ll-kill-you look. He paled. I let him go and continued to the elevator. “Oh, don’t mind him.” I could hear Gianna roll her eyes behind my back. “He doesn’t have a fun bone in his entire body.” Maybe not, but my idea of fun certainly wasn’t watching some teenager who wouldn’t even know where to put his dick touch her. Gianna and I exchanged a look before I stepped onto the elevator. Hers said, Stay out of my business. Before I could stop it, mine said, I’ve been inside that little body and I’ll goddamn say who can touch it.