His sinful Obsession

Brewing Storm

Frida sat on the living room couch, her phone pressed to her ear.
A faint smile played on her lips as she listened to Ella's cheerful voice on the other end.
"When are you finally coming to Oslo, Ella?
It's been weeks," Frida asked,
her tone a mixture of longing and teasing. Ella chuckled.
"Soon, I promise. But first, tell me—how's Casper?
When are you getting him back from the vet?"
Frida's smile softened.
"He's doing much better now. They said he just needs a few more days of rest
before he's ready to come home. I miss him so much."
"I'm sure he misses you too," Ella replied warmly.
"He's a good boy. He'll bounce back in no time.
And you, Frida—you need to stay strong too."
Frida sighed, leaning back against the couch.
"I'm trying, Ella. It's just... a lot."

Before Ella could respond, Lisa appeared in the doorway, a tray of coffee in her hands.
"Is that Ella?" Lisa asked with a smile.
Frida nodded and passed her the phone. Lisa took it, her voice lighting up.
"Ella! How are you, dear? I hope your visit home went well.
When you're back, you should get that bakery running again—
I'm sure Frida would love to help out."
Ella laughed on the other end.
"Oh, the bakery will reopen as soon as I'm back!
And yes, I'll need Frida's help, especially for the busy days."
Frida flushed slightly.
"I'm not sure if I'd be much help," she admitted, her voice hesitant.
"Why not?" Ella encouraged.
"You've got the talent, Frida.
And we'd have so much fun working together again."
Lisa nodded in agreement, her expression warm and reassuring.
"You'd be amazing, Frida. Think about it."
Frida hesitated, her eyes downcast,
but there was a flicker of hope in her expression.
"Maybe..." she said softly.
Ella's voice came through with a gentle laugh.
"That's the spirit. We'll make it happen together."
With that, the call ended, leaving Frida with a mix of doubt and a glimmer of hope she hadn't felt in a long time.

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The study was dimly lit, the heavy scent of cigar smoke lingering in the air. James sat on the leather armchair, his fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest. Across from him, Rafael leaned back lazily, his feet propped up on the edge of the polished oak desk, exuding a dangerous, carefree aura.
Nicolas stood nearby, his posture stiff, hands clasped behind his back as he awaited orders.
"So, Mexico's a mess," James said, breaking the tense silence.
His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it,
a tension born of bad news.
"Fernando's report came in. It's negative. He didn't get what we needed."
Rafael's eyes flicked to James, one brow arching in mock surprise.
"Negative?"
he drawled, his voice light but dripping with sarcasm.
He reached for the crystal glass beside him,
swirling the amber liquid inside before taking a slow sip.
"Well, isn't that just fuc*ing peachy. I send the man on a simple mission, and he screws it up.
Typical Fernando."
James shot him a look, his jaw tightening.
"He's not screwing it up. He's asking for backup.
The situation's more complicated than we thought."
"Complicated," Rafael repeated, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.
"That's the word people use when they're too stupid to figure the sh*t out."
He set the glass down with a sharp clink, his expression hardening.
"Fine. We'll babysit him. Nicolas, send Carlos.
Tell him to pack his bags—he's heading to Mexico tonight."
Nicolas gave a curt nod.
"Understood, boss."
Rafael waved a hand dismissively.
"And remind Carlos he's not there for sightseeing. If Fernando can't handle things, Carlos better clean it up and bring back results. I'm not running a charity."
James cleared his throat, leaning forward slightly.

"I'm heading to Milan in the morning. There are loose ends I need to tie up there."
Rafael's gaze snapped to him, sharp and calculating.
"Milan?"
he repeated, his tone suddenly colder.
"Why?"
James held his ground, meeting Rafael's piercing stare.
"Because if we don't handle our business there, we're inviting trouble.
You know it as well as I do."

Rafael tilted his head, studying him for a moment.
Then, with a lazy shrug, he turned to Nicolas.
"Fine. Get the jet ready. If James wants to play house in Milan, who am I to stop him?"
Nicolas nodded again, already pulling out his phone to make the arrangements.
"I'll have it ready within the hour."
Rafael smirked, leaning back further into his chair, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
"See, Brother-in-law? That's why I keep Nicolas around. Efficient, unlike Fernando."
James didn't respond, his expression remaining impassive.
He stood, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt.
"I'll move Lisa and Daisy from Milan to Madrid. We'll meet directly there. I'll see you both in Madrid, then."
"Fine."

Rafael chuckled as James walked out, the sound low and mocking.
Nicolas lingered for a moment, waiting for further instructions.
Rafael glanced at him, his smirk fading into something colder.
"And Nicolas... make sure Fernando understands one thing, I don't tolerate failure.
If he screws this up again, he won't need backup—
he'll need a damn coffin."