Illicit Obsession (King of Ruin Book 2)

1. Massimo

My head swam, and the world blurred around me. A car horn blared in an incessant, unending wail. The grating sound dragged me back to full consciousness. For a moment, I was completely disoriented, the throbbing pain on my brow commanding my full attention and muddling my mind.

Then I heard her scream my name, and fear I’d never known before punched me, knocking the air from my lungs. Adrenaline surged, and the world sharpened with crystal clarity.

I was alone in the wrecked SUV. To my right, the deployed airbag obscured the view out of the shattered window, but I could make out the grill of the white van that’d smashed into us. I’d been knocked unconscious at the impact. How long had I been out?

And where was Evelyn?

The door to my left was open, and she was no longer cuddled up against my side.

“Massimo!”

Panic clawed at me, shredding rational thought and reducing me to my most primal, savage instincts.

I launched myself from the ruined SUV, stumbling slightly as the ground seemed to lurch beneath me. I willed the dizziness to subside and barreled on, desperate to get to her.

The SUV was a smoking scrap heap, and I dimly noted that the two men in the front seats were bloody and unmoving; I was alone, without backup. And that vehicle wouldn’t be getting us out of here anytime soon.

Even as part of my brain reasoned through our dire circumstances—planning our way out of this nightmare scenario—my thoughts were consumed with fear for Evelyn: my fragile little butterfly.

She wasn’t screaming anymore. I couldn’t hear her.

I rounded the ruined SUV and the smashed-up white van that’d collided with us to set this ambush. Another white van was parked behind it, perpendicular to the flow of traffic to blockade their assault. I caught a flash of her platinum hair just as the side door began to slide closed.

I threw myself into the van, ignoring the jarring pain as the door slammed into my side.

They weren’t fucking taking her away from me. They would die for trying.

Evelyn was mine.

My knife was in my hand, slashing at my enemies. One of them started to pull a gun on me, but the van was too small, and I was too close. My blade embedded itself in his skull, cutting into his brain. His eye was plucked from its socket as I wrenched the weapon free and turned to the other bastard who’d dared to touch her. His throat opened with one smooth swipe of my knife.

A sharp curse from the driver’s seat called my attention to the last man. That was his final word before I reached around the seat and slammed my blade into his heart, twisting to shred the vital organ. He slumped onto the steering wheel, and another horn blared incessantly, creating a cacophony of violent music.

I turned my attention to Evelyn, my heart in my throat. She lay sprawled out on the metal floor of the van, her shining hair creating a halo around her lovely face. Her delicate features were slack, and she was far too still.

“Evelyn!” I rasped her name and gathered her up in my arms, testing the pulse at her throat.

Her heartbeat was steady and strong. At my touch, her long lashes fluttered, and her peridot eyes pierced my chest like an arrow. They were glassy with pain, but she focused on me.

“Massimo,” she whispered, her slender fingers twining in my shirt to clutch at me.

Alive. Evelyn was alive, warm and vital in my arms.

But not safe. Not yet.

I had to get her back to Duarte’s building, behind the bulletproof glass and small army of men who guarded his personal urban fortress.

“You’re okay, farfallina,” I promised, forcing the words through my constricted throat. “I’ve got you.”

I didn’t want to release her, but I arranged her shaking body on one of the bench seats in the back of the van and buckled her in. She’d be more secure back here, away from the front windows, even if I would prefer to keep her in my line of sight.

As it was, I didn’t have anyone to drive us away from this mess. I shoved the two dead men out of the side door so that the sight of their bodies wouldn’t distress her. Then I heaved the third body out of the driver’s seat and took his place. Tires squealed as I slammed my foot down on the accelerator, getting us the fuck out of there. I tore through the city streets, mounting the sidewalk to get around the worst of the traffic. I shot a desperate glance at Evelyn in the rearview mirror.

Her eyes were closed, her cheeks far too pale.

“Keep your eyes open,” I barked, terror still riding me hard and roughening my tone. I didn’t want her passing out on me again. I had to get her to Duarte’s private physician so that he could assess her injuries.

Her eyes snapped open, wide on mine in the mirror. Her fear tore at my heart, the shredding pain far more intense than the lingering throb in my head.

“Good girl,” I growled, struggling to gentle my voice. “Eyes on me.”

It seemed to take an eternity to reach the safe haven of Duarte’s home, but in reality, I managed the journey in minutes. No one seemed to pursue us; I hoped I’d killed all of the bastards who’d ambushed our SUV. There hadn’t been many of them in the van. That’d been their fucking mistake to think they could take me on with only three men.

I swerved when I reached the high rise, making sure that the side door was aligned with the front entrance—Evelyn would be shielded by the van when I got her out of the vehicle.

Four armed men burst out of the bulletproof glass doors, their guns drawn. I held up my hands in a show of surrender, waiting three seconds for them to recognize me. Their weapons lowered as they registered that I was a friend, not a threat.

As soon as my life was no longer in immediate danger, I rushed to Evelyn.

“Cover us,” I barked at the men as I rounded the van to wrench open the sliding door.

Evelyn fumbled at her seatbelt, keen to get into the safety of my waiting arms. Instinctively, she sought my protection. Even as fear clung to my heart with black claws, my chest warmed at the knowledge that she trusted me so implicitly. The desperation that tightened her lovely eyes soothed the beast in me.

That desperation was for me.

She managed to get free of the seatbelt and flung herself against my chest. I gathered her up in my arms and rushed her into the building, not slowing even when the bulletproof door closed behind us.

“Call the doctor,” I snapped at the men who flanked us. “And make sure no one followed us.”

“What’s happening?” one of the guards demanded as another called for backup in rapid-fire Spanish.

“Los Zetas,” I growled in response, punching the button for the elevator. In the seconds it took for the damn thing to arrive, I bit out, “They ambushed us on our way to the airport. Call Duarte and tell him what happened.”

“He’ll want to talk to you.”

“I need the doctor first,” I countered sharply as I stepped into the elevator. “Evelyn was hurt.”

“I’m okay,” she said in a shaky whisper as the silver doors slid closed, cutting us off from the guards and their questions. “You’re the one who’s bleeding, Massimo.”

Her eyes were dark with panic, and she brushed her fingers over my cheek. Red painted her porcelain skin.

Shit. My brow continued to throb, but lingering adrenaline kept the discomfort from becoming a distraction.

I hated the fear that pinched her delicate features, hated the sight of blood marring her perfection.

Better my blood than hers. I would gladly bleed for her; I’d willingly shed a lot more blood if it meant she was unharmed.

We reached the safety of the suite, and I rushed her into the bedroom before carefully laying her down on the bed, ensuring that her back was propped against the pillows.

My hands roved over her body, barely touching her as I assessed her for injuries. I suppressed the impulse to tear off her pale blue, lightweight sundress to check her over.

I took a breath and reminded myself that the doctor would be here soon, and he would be more capable of assessing her health. In my feral mood, I might accidentally jar any injuries.

“They hurt you.” My voice was so gravelly with residual rage that it was barely human.

They’d tried to take her from me. They’d died far too quickly.

I became aware that blood had splattered my fists and forearms—the blood of my enemies. My chest swelled with savage satisfaction at the evidence of their deaths. They would never touch her again.

I took another breath, somewhat soothed at the sight of the gore that marked my skin. The brief concern that it might upset Evelyn melted away when I registered that her anxious gaze was fully focused on my face.

“Where is the doctor?” she demanded breathlessly. “How long will it take for him to see you?”

“I’m fine, dolcezza.” I tried to soothe her, stroking her hair back from her cheek. Her face was so pale that her fine dusting of freckles stood out in sharp relief.

“You’re not fine!” Her voice took on a higher pitch than usual, and her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “You weren’t moving. All that blood…” Her terrified gaze raked over my face. “I thought you were…”

She trailed off, her throat working as though she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

I shushed her gently, placing my hand over her heart so that she could feel my presence. Calm settled over me. Fear for her wellbeing still fluttered at the back of my mind, but she needed me to be her rock right now. The sight of my concern would only upset her more.

“I’m okay, Evelyn,” I promised. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

She placed her hand over mine, pressing it tighter to her chest. “They wanted to take me to George,” she murmured, the pained admission barely audible. “They said they didn’t care what condition I was in.”

Fury surged, and I barely managed to keep the murderous tension from gripping my muscles. The sight of Evelyn’s horror tore at my insides. Crawford would die screaming.

“He will never get to you,” I vowed.

“I loved him,” she admitted, her voice shaking. “I was going to marry him. I thought he was a good man.” She squeezed her eyes shut, as though she was trying to trap her tears and prevent them from spilling over.

A sense of powerlessness I’d never known before hollowed out my chest. Her distress shredded me like nothing else. He’d done this to her. He’d betrayed this sweet, trusting angel. She looked shattered: my broken little butterfly.

“How could I be so stupid?” she asked on a strained whisper, her eyes still closed.

Anger tightened my jaw, but I managed to force out through gritted teeth, “You’re not stupid. He lied to you. He never deserved you.”

“It doesn’t feel real,” she admitted. “This can’t be happening.”

I cupped her pale cheek. “Look at me.” Her lovely eyes snapped to mine, dark with pain. “You’re with me now. I’ve got you, no matter what. You have a good heart, farfallina. Don’t let him take that from you.”

I hardened my resolve. I wouldn’t fucking allow it. No matter what it took, I would shield her from further harm. She would never lose the innocence I coveted, the kind soul that I craved to possess. I wanted her sweet devotion all for myself, and I wouldn’t allow that motherfucker to diminish her spirit. Evelyn had an inner strength that I’d seen many times. That bastard wouldn’t crush it. He wouldn’t take one more damn thing from this perfect woman.

A knock on the door to the suite distracted me, and I immediately broke contact, rushing to let the doctor in. As soon as the thin, dark-haired man appeared in the doorway, I stepped back to hurry him to the bedroom.

“She was unconscious when I found her,” I told him, the words a low growl as fury surged once again. I clenched my teeth to reign in my anger, struggling to shove it down so that I could remain calm for her. “I don’t know how long she was out.”

The man seemed to understand that I prioritized Evelyn over my own more obvious injuries. Or maybe it was the murderous rage that still lingered in my taut muscles that warned him not to contradict me.

She sat up on the bed, her gaze sharpening on my bloody face. “You’re the one who was unconscious,” she countered. “I was just disoriented for a minute. I really am okay.”

“They hurt you,” I ground out, my patience wearing thin. “Tell me what happened.”

Her chin tipped back in that defiant posture that both irritated and enticed me. For now, irritation won out. This wasn’t the time for a sensual power play, not when her health was at risk.

“Tell me what they did,” I bit out, crossing my arms over my chest. The doctor was already at her side, ready to assess her for unseen injuries.

She huffed out a breath, capitulating. “I’ll tell you, but you have to get checked out as soon as he confirms I’m fine.” She nodded in the direction of the doctor.

“Evelyn…” I imbued her name with warning, a threat of consequences if she didn’t comply immediately.

She turned her attention to the doctor. “They took me out of the SUV and put me in a van. I struggled, so one of them hit me. Things went hazy for a minute. The next thing I knew, Massimo was driving me away from the fight.”

I was grateful that she hadn’t witnessed the violence in the van, but concern for her far outweighed my relief.

“Where were you hit?” the doctor asked, calm and methodical as he began to gingerly inspect her scalp.

She gestured to the right side of her head. When he applied light pressure to the spot, she winced.

I was at her side in an instant, wrapping my hand around hers in a pulse of comfort. That sense of helplessness gnawed at me, the sensation maddening. I couldn’t bear to see her in pain.

“You’ll have a bit of a bump there for a little while, but there’s no bleeding,” the doctor said, cool and clinical. He turned his brown gaze on me, clearly sensing that I was the one who needed reassurance. “She’ll be fine.”

My gaze raked over her body, assessing her for other injuries. Red marks marred her upper arms: violence imprinted on her creamy skin. The bastards had dragged her away from me. She’d fought to get back to me. She’d screamed for me.

Summoning up all my willpower, I shoved my rage deep in my chest. I’d have the opportunity to take it out on the man who truly deserved my retribution: George Crawford. Soon, I’d have him strung up and bleeding in Duarte’s basement. He would be the one struggling and screaming.

The thought only somewhat soothed me, but it helped me control the worst of my anger.

“Her arms,” I growled at the doctor, demanding that he check the marks for deeper injury.

“She’ll probably bruise, but nothing is broken,” the man replied smoothly. “Now, I need to get a look at your head.”

My phone rang. Duarte.

I waved the man off and answered the call. My host wouldn’t like it if I ignored him, and I needed an update on the situation with our enemies, the threat to Evelyn.

“You risked an assault on my home,” he drawled without greeting me. “Los Zetas could’ve pursued you.”

“No one followed me,” I replied as coolly as I could manage. I would’ve returned to Duarte’s fortress even if I had been tailed, but he didn’t need to know that.

A beat of tense silence.

“We’re friends, Massimo. Of course, I will offer my protection while you’re in my territory.”

“Thank you,” I replied, some of the tension easing from my jaw.

“We will delay our trip,” he informed me. “I need to ensure this situation is handled at home before we go out of the country. We’ll leave tomorrow. I assume you still want to come to Colombia with me to meet Adrián?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. I still had a job to do, to secure the alliance with Duarte and Adrián Rodríguez. “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

“Adrián will be pleased to meet you too,” Duarte said, no pleasure evident in his cold voice. “I’m sure our business arrangement will be profitable for all of us.”

I heard the unspoken discontent in his genial words: he expected to get even richer off our deal, and failure would have serious consequences for my friends and me. Crawford’s continued survival put Duarte’s business at risk, just as it put Evelyn at risk. He was a dead man walking.

“It will be.” It was a guarantee. “I always keep my promises, Stefano.”

“Yes, I remember,” he confirmed. It wasn’t the first time I’d told him that. “I’ll see you tonight. We’ll have dinner and discuss our next moves.”

He ended the call without waiting for me to accept the invitation, so I allowed the doctor to check my head. Evelyn’s eyes were tight with worry as he prodded at my wound, and the sight of her tender concern soothed any pain I might’ve felt.

She was safe with me, but the beast in me wouldn’t be totally placated until I’d inspected every inch of her body. As soon as the doctor left, I would strip off her clothes and check her over myself.