Divine Obsession (GodHood #2)

Chapter 39

22 years old

The elevator hummed softly as the numbers on the digital display ticked upward toward the penthouse, the city beneath growing smaller and smaller. Polished steel walls gleamed with gold accents that reflected the subtle lighting.

I glanced down at my phone. A GPS tracker overlaying a map of New York, a single dot pulsing softly. Further statistics and exact calculations letting me know it was coming from her bedroom in her parent’s penthouse. She was probably still asleep.

The signal wasn’t just from her phone or laptop; it came from something closer. I could still hear her voice in my head from when she’d received the pink-diamond-heart pendant on her birthday earlier in the year.

“I love it!” Natalia threw her arms around Kali’s neck and kissed her cheek, making her laugh. “I promise to never take it off!”

She’d thought it was from Kali; or our parents.

But the gift had been from me.

And she had no idea.

She’d been so excited to put it on, she didn’t look at the back to see it was softly encrypted with the word amai.

I told myself it wasn’t about control or invading her privacy. But who was I kidding? I needed to know where she was. Who she was with. What she was doing. The fact that it gave me access to her phone, her laptop, her entire digital world – that was just a useful side effect.

The elevator dinged softly, and I slipped the phone back into my pocket as the doors slid open. A wave of warm light and muted conversation spilled in, along with the faint scent of expensive champagne and high-end perfume.

The penthouse was as extravagant as I’d expected. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the Tokyo skyline, its glittering lights stretching endlessly into the night. Guests in designer gowns and tailored suits moved through the room, their laughter and smiles practiced. Every detail of the space screamed wealth, from the cascading crystal chandelier to the sleek, minimalist furniture that probably cost more than most people’s houses.

I stepped out into the party, adjusting the cuffs of my suit as I scanned the room.

Natalia wasn’t here – the dot showed she was halfway across the world.

But that didn’t matter.

Because wherever she was – whatever she was doing – I knew .

Columbia was a shark tank; a breeding ground for ambition wrapped in designer suits, and Mommy and Daddy’s credit cards. Everyone was trying to prove something, claw their way to the top of whatever throne they imagined they deserved.

And in the middle of it all, there was Natalia.

Her intelligence and beauty too effortless.

Men noticed her, of course. They always did. She had this way of walking into a room and pulling the air out of it.

At first, they approached her – awkward smiles, cheesy one-liners, the usual. And for a little while, they tried to get close. Some even got bold enough to ask her out, their eyes lighting up like they’d won the goddamn lottery.

But it never lasted.

A few days later, those same guys would avoid her like she didn’t exist. Their smiles disappeared, replaced by nervous glances and hushed whispers. And eventually, the message spread…

Natalia Moretti was off-fucking-limits.

I made sure of that.

It wasn’t hard. A few hundred dollars to some guys from a boxing team in Queens who owed me favors… It didn’t take much to get the point across.

Stay away from her, or get the shit beat out of you.

No one wanted to be the guy limping to class with a split lip and a black eye, explaining how they’d been ‘accidentally’ jumped at a frat party.

It didn’t take long before none of the guys so much as looked in her direction.

Then there was the communications professor. The smug asshole thought he could talk down to her, embarrass her in front of the class. I’d been sitting next to her the day it happened.

The night I graduated early, he got an anonymous email linking him to some compromising photos from a Vegas trip he thought was long forgotten. By the end of the week, Columbia announced he was fired.

Protecting Natalia had become second nature to me, even if she didn’t know it. Especially because she didn’t know it .

She’d hate me if she found out. Good thing I didn’t do it for her approval.

And maybe, if I was being honest with myself, it was the only way I could keep her close without crossing the lines I told myself I wouldn’t cross.

23 years old

It started with an offhand comment from Kali, while on FaceTime.

‘ Looks like Natalia’s got a date tonight.’

The words lodged in my chest like a blade. I didn’t respond, just kept my face blank as I leaned back in my chair, pretending to focus on my laptop. But my fingers had already stilled over the keyboard, my attention entirely elsewhere.

A date.

Kali’s words replayed in my head, twisting into something darker. I knew she didn’t mean anything by it, but the thought of Natalia sitting across from some jerk-off – smiling, laughing, letting him think he had a shot – made my blood boil.

As soon as the call ended, it took less than a minute to find the thread on Natalia’s phone – a casual text exchange confirming dinner at some trendy restaurant downtown.

Adam. Finance major. CrossFit. Fucking boring as hell.

I stared at his contact info, debating for all of two seconds before deciding it wasn’t enough. I needed to make sure he didn’t show up. Hacking into his phone, a few lines of code, and I had access to everything – his location, his messages, his calendar.

The limp-dick was on his way to the restaurant now, cutting it close but still on track to arrive.

Not if I had anything to say about it.

Pulling up NYC’s traffic light system, I rerouted him through the worst gridlock Manhattan had to offer. A few well-placed red lights, and he was practically crawling across town. Then came the final touch – a deliberate overload to his phone’s operating system. One blink, and the screen went dead.

No navigation. No way to call or text her. Nothing.

I leaned back in my chair, a small, satisfied smirk pulling at my lips. By the time Adam realized what was happening, Natalia would have already left the restaurant, tired of waiting for him.

And that would be the end of it. No second chances.

I didn’t tell myself it was right. Didn’t pretend it wasn’t crossing a line. I’d stopped justifying my actions a long time ago.

But as I closed the laptop and stared out the window, Tokyo’s city lights blurring in the distance, one thought settled in my mind like an anchor.

Natalia didn’t belong with someone like Adam.

She didn’t belong with anyone.

Except me.

24 years old

The glow of Tokyo’s skyline spread out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, a mosaic of neon signs and glittering high-rises cutting through the night. I leaned against the edge of my desk, my phone pressed to my ear. The line crackled faintly, a reminder of the distance between here and New York, but the voice on the other end was clear enough.

“Please, please, I get it, okay? I’ll stay away from her. I swear…”

The desperation in his voice made my stomach twist – not out of guilt, but disgust. This was the guy who thought he was good enough for Natalia? The guy who thought he could sit across from her, laugh with her, maybe even touch her, and this was how he folded when things got tough? Pathetic.

A muffled shuffling on the line, followed by a professional voice. “We told him to back off. Polite at first, y’know? But he didn’t take the hint. Kept insisting he wasn’t scared.”

“I won’t text her, call her, nothing! I’ll ghost her. You won’t hear from me again!” The screams were so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

“Let him go,” I said, my voice low and steady. “He’s not gonna try anything else. Probably already pissed his pants.”

“That, he did…” My soldier, on the other end, came back on the line. “Consider it done, Boss.”

I ended the call, picking up a tumbler. The amber liquid swirled in the glass as I stared out at the city, my reflection faint in the glass.

She deserved better. But better didn’t exist. Not in our world.

And if that meant no one else could have her… So be it.

25 years old

The bass from the club’s speakers vibrated deep enough to rattle in my chest. The place was packed, the kind of chaos you’d expect on New Year’s Eve in New York. Bodies moving on the dance floor, laughter echoing from the VIP sections, overpriced champagne pouring like water.

I leaned against the railing on the fourth floor, a drink in hand, looking down at the sea of faces below.

Zach stood beside me, unusually quiet. His focus wasn’t on the revelry but on the small, gleaming object in his hand – a gold bullet encrypted with its owners name. I watched him roll it between his fingers like a gambler weighing dice, his expression distant.

“You’ve been staring at that thing all night,” I said, taking a sip of my whiskey. “Let it go, man. You’re never gonna find her.”

Zach glanced at me, running his tongue over his teeth. “You don’t know that.”

His lips pulled into a half-smile as he pocketed the bullet. “I could run into her right now.”

“She tried to kill you. She failed. She disappeared. You need to move on.”

Zach’s eyes set like the sun, something deeper in his burning gaze as he shook his head. “No way.”

I didn’t push.

Zach had his vices – revenge.

And I had mine – a five-foot-eight Italian brunette with soft brown eyes and a body for sin that made you fall to your knees before her.

On the floor below, her caramel hair caught the light as she moved. She was dancing, her body swaying to the music, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe.

But then I noticed the guy.

And then I wanted to make him stop breathing.

Skinny, dark-haired, some Wall Street type that looked like his whole life savings were worth less than my least expensive watch. He was leaning in too close, his head tilted as he spoke into her ear.

I felt my jaw tighten.

There’d been nothing on her phone to indicate she was meeting someone; no texts, no calls.

They must’ve met tonight.

The guy said something to her, and she laughed, nodding. Then he turned and headed toward the bathrooms, leaving her alone on the dance floor.

“Be right back,” I said to Zach, walking away, but he was already busy staring back at that godforsaken gold bullet.

The hallway near the restrooms was dimly lit, the music muted but still pulsing faintly in the background. I caught up to the guy just as he was stepping into the men’s room.

“Hey,” I said casually, flashing an easy smile. “Saw you on the floor. That girl you’re with – what’s her deal?”

He threw a smirk over his shoulder. “She’s cool. Said she wants to come home with me tonight.”

I nodded, my expression calm; almost friendly. “That right?”

“Yeah.” He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “Lucky me, huh?”

I didn’t respond, my eyes lowering to the small bag of pills he pulled out of his pocket. I recognized those drugs.

I nodded towards it. “What’s that?”

He winked. “She seems like a good lay, but you never know–”

Pulling the Glock from beneath my jacket, the silenced shot barely made a sound over the music as it punched clean through his skull.

The guy crumpled to the floor, his blood pooling quickly on the glossy tiles.

I stared down at him for a moment, my breathing steady, my pulse untouched by what I’d just done.

Lucky you, huh?

Sliding the gun back into my waistband, I stepped over his body and headed back for the VIP section.

26 years old

The ballroom pulsed with a low hum of chatter and music, a haze of pink light reflecting off crystal chandeliers. Masks of feathers, sequins and leather concealed the faces of New York’s elite, creating mystery.

But I only had eyes for one person.

Across the floor, she stood in a removed, somewhat dark corner of the room, leaning against the wall and observing everyone else.

Her caramel hair swept over one shoulder, the curve of her bare neck and those pillowy lips teasing me beneath the delicate edges of her pink mask.

I came back because of her.

Of course, I fucking did.

Four years away, an ocean separating us over thousands of miles, and I still couldn’t get her out of my head.

So, what was the fucking point? Of staying away from my family? Out of my city?

Of staying away from her at all?

Our gazes locked for the fifth time tonight, a slow, burning connection that sent a ripple of heat through my chest. She looked away first, her lips curving slightly, and I knew she was playing; testing me.

She had to know it was me.

Challenge accepted.

Pushing off the bar, I started toward her just as another man did the same. My hand shot out, gripping the back of his collar. With a sharp tug, I pulled him off balance, sending him stumbling to the floor. His confused grunt was lost in the dim of the room, but the message clear enough.

I glanced behind Natalia and caught another man who’d been eyeing her from the other side of the dancefloor. He froze, his glass halfway to his lips, before quickly averting his gaze and walking away.

Satisfied, I adjusted my tie, calm as if nothing had happened.

Natalia, still facing away, hadn’t turned around. But I knew she felt me approaching. The way her back straightened, the slight tilt of her head…

I stopped just behind her, close enough to catch the faintest hint of her sweet, vanilla perfume.

This game was far from over .