Obsession

Twenty Three - Ventitré

Alessandro

"What's up with you, Bossman?" James, my top security guy when Rico is unavailable questions. 

I walked past him, not giving him any satisfaction in my private life. I rarely fraternize with the staff, bad enough I live with a few of them. I open my door to my office and straight away, I wished I was back home, but without Zo, it's all left down to me. Standing there was Rachel; in nothing but panties and a bra. She splays herself over my desk; her hands run down her inner thigh. 

This isn't how it's meant to work. I'm the one who calls upon them, they just sit and wait for my text. 

"James," I call out to the fucker. He knows the rules; no one is to enter my private spaces without me here. I ignore the half-naked woman on my desk and do a quick scan around. Nothing seems to be touched. The drawers are all locked; only three of us have a key. 

"Yeah, Bossman?" James calls out from behind me. "Holyshit!" 

I spin around to face him. "What is the number one rule?" I ask. My jaw clenches as I wait for him to reply.

His pasty face heats up, starting from his neck, causing him to loosen the tie around his neck. 

"No one is allowed in your office?" 

He did not just say it like a question. I turn my head to Rachel and blew out a long unsteady breath. "Then why is there someone in here?"

"I-" James scratches the back of his neck. "I don't know." 

"Who was on before you?" I ask. 

"I've been here since 8." 

That's almost five hours ago. "Out!" I ordered. James spun around on his heels to leave, I grab his arm, stopping him from taking another step. 

"Not you, Idiot," I tell him. "You!" my angry glare lands on Rachel. She tries to pout her lips to make herself look cute, but cute doesn't work on me. I reached inside my jacket and pull out the game changer. 

People usually do what you tell them to when their life hangs on the line.

Rachel wraps her jacket around her body as she scurries off my desk. James steps out of the way to let her pass. I make my way around my desk and open the top drawer, pulling out some wipes, and tossing them over to Jame. 

"Get to work," I tell him as I take a seat, running my hands down my face. He glances over at my gun which is now resting on my desk. 

Not all my men carry weapons. I don't trust easily; especially where Angela is concerned. My pocket vibrates, and I sigh pulling it out. I'm months behind in work, yet every fucker just wants to distract me. I didn't even need to come here, I just did because having her down the hall is fucking torcher. 

"What!" 

I hear a gunshot coming from the other line, and I pull the phone away from my ear to glance at the screen. The call was coming from Rico's phone. 

"Rico. What the fuck is going on?"  He is known to butt dial, but this sounds and feels different. 

 I stand from my desk and grab my gun. James takes a step back. "Do you know how to shoot?" I ask him. 

James just stared at me as if I spoke to him in my natural language. Maybe I did. So I repeated the question. 

James bops his head and mumbles a quick yes. "Good." I reach under my desk and slide my spare gun over to him. "You're coming with me." 

I sped down the streets of New York, making my way back home. All the time an unsettling feeling resides in my chest. "Shoot anyone you see, but my family."