Hateful obsession

Chapter 10

Cade
"A war? Sounds like I still can start it because of her."

Truth is not what you see, hear or think. It is what you make of it for your benefit. There is no such thing as a sound truth or a perfect reality where everyone has reasons. There are people and their goals. There is peace and war on this planet. There is losing and winning. For everyone.

I've had a lot of experience in finding true goals. The ones that are thought out. Step by step. Only three times in my 33 years have I done something stupid. And all of them were connected with this fucking woman.

The first time, when I accidentally or maybe not saw her in a family photo and got married. The second time, when I let her go and didn't kill her. But I should have because now I wouldn't be so close to the residence of the Italian mafia. She made me crazy, but I never thought that it would be only her who would destroy and annihilate.

Melissa thinks that that little peace pact that was made because of her all those years ago might stop me from taking back what's mine.

I love it when she does that. It means I get the perfect amount of time to rip my enemies apart, crunching their bones and watching the blood ooze out of every orifice. Literally.

That's how my reality works. And no one can stop me. Not even death. My wife is not the one who will sleep in these people's house. She can visit her brother as much as she wants, but no one with the last name Kirillov will ever sleep in this damn house.

I've been stuck in this marital crap for so long that death is so stupid I'm ready to laugh in its face. If I go down, I'll take every single one of them with me, including the devil of my heart. Love turns out to be too easy to turn into real hateful war. But us? We are war.

If I disappear from this world, then so does everyone. I am a shadow for this good world. Quiet, scary and dark. Which is ready to swallow everything in its path. And now I am ready to do it because my woman should be near. It does not matter what her last name, first name or fucking husband is.

I'm standing in front of a huge mansion in a prematurely secluded area for a city like New York. The fence is high enough that no one can see over them. There are no buildings nearby, which is a logical move to keep the place safe. There are so many wires around, like a military camp, and an insane number of cameras are placed at regular intervals along the entrance, blinking red.

If I get out of the car and take even one step out of cover, I will be pounced on by guards who will not hesitate to shoot me a hundred times to make sure I am really dead.
They are so serious that I can't even pretend to be dead with people like them. Too bad.

"What are we waiting for?" Dean's nervous voice next to me breaks me out of my deep thoughts. "If you've already taken me with you, then at least let's do this right away and I'll die in peace."
"If you really want to die then go ahead, but I think I'll wait for the guard to change." I leaned over the steering wheel a little and checked the watch on my wrist again. "Five more minutes."

"Then what? Just knock and say, 'Hi, I'm just here to pick up my wife, sorry.'" He chuckled.
"Politeness is not my strong point."
"Oh yeah, you just calmed me down." I heard a sarcasm.
"Calm down. Are you feeling better?"
"You knew business school didn't teach you how to barge in on angry Italians, right?" Dean ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at it. "So...Why the hell did you even bring me along?"
"I'd be bored and lonely on my own." I shrugged.

"Great. So one crazy woman called to report another and poor Dean ends up suffering." He continued his dialogue.
"Do you like the fact that your ex-best friend is in a house full of men?"
"Not another word." He swallowed loudly. "What should I do? What's your plan?"