Mafia's Obsession [18+]

33.

Sofia

I definitely misheard it.

Weeks ago, he was denying to have some absurd feeling as love, but now?

What's changed?

"You don't mean it." I guard my reaction—though it's a lil bit too late—and roll my eyes in annoyance.

I resume shoving my clothes into the bag before zipping it closed. The man is hovering behind me, leaning against the jewelry drawers in the center of the room. I hate how composed he appears to be while my heart is beating loud in my chest.

"Is it so hard to believe?" he hums, almost in amusement. He knows he catches me off guard. His nonsense confession is the last thing I expected.

"You're not capable of love." I scoff, daring myself to turn around fully to face him. A move I consider stupid because now I'm caged in his possessive stare.

"I am. For you." He says it in challenge, raising his eyebrow as if he wants me to argue. I have never known a love confession could sound this intimidating.

"Why did it sound like a warning?" I fold my arms over my chest, trying to stay calm among the mess of my beating heart.

He laughs. "Marco said the same shit."

"You told him?" I ask in disbelief.

"Of course, I did. I needed his blessing." He tells me.

Is he on crack?

"His blessing? We're not that serious." There's panic in my voice as though I'm completely signing my life away to the devil.

It's all fun and games until Ezio Salucci tells me it's more than that.

Fuck. He can't possibly—

"Yeah? What made you say that?" he challenges. I open my mouth, but there's no word coming out. "I just told you I love you. Do you even know what that means?" he takes a step closer and it's almost an instinct that my body avoiding the danger by taking a step back.

"What?" I don't know and I don't want to know, but I'm smarter than saying it out loud.

"You're stuck with me for life." He smiles. In sinister kind of way. The one that makes me shudder and question my decision. What a mistake to be entangled in his deathtrap.

Ezio Salucci is the worst for a reason. Now he's playing the game in a long run with me as his helpless doll.

Fuck him. I'm not his plaything.

"You'll be done with me soon." I scowl. Keep telling myself that until it becomes reality.

He raises his eyebrow. "Are you listening, dolcezza?" his threat's clear behind the words. "No one's leaving anyone. The time I'll be done with you is when I'm in a nice coffin buried six feet under."

I shiver by the certainty of the statement. The promise behind those sentences. He's not joking around. He's laying his cards on the table. He loves me and it'll be dark and terrifying. His love is a dangerous obsession. A state of ownership. Only dragging me deeper into a pitch black path. His kind of love is consuming, poisoned and of course, deadly.

"What if I don't want it?" I hold my chin high in defiance and his stare turns stern.

"Say that again." An obvious warning that makes me falter. I swallow the urge to defy him right away. To take his dare and repeat that exact question.

Instead, I say. "No one deserves my love." Not looking away from his piercing stare.

"I don't want it." He replies as if stating the obvious.