𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

~Obsessed~

"I have to meet with the Russian Bratva's Pakhan, Viktor Ivanov, tonight at the club," she said carefully, waiting to get to the worst part. He turned her around so they were face to face.

His face was laced with resentment.

The Russians and the Italians never got along.

It all started with a mafia war almost seventy years ago between the two. The reason for the war was because of a land dispute and both mafias swore that they were the ones entitled to it. The Italians won in the end but people still argue about it. Since then, they never got along.

"You are going to meet with the man who has been wanting you to marry him for the past six years?" he said calmly, almost too calmly.

She learned the hard way that the ones who were the calmest were the most dangerous.

Everyone knew of Viktor's constant gripes and remarks of how he was going to get the infamous assassin for the King in his bed and put a rock on her finger for the last six years. The comments made Midnight regret showing them her identity, but since they were one of the first mafias to submit to the King, they had sort of earned the right.

Luca only knew that because he interrogated Ida and Starr about any past relationships she had.

Apparently, she didn't have any except Viktor thought they did.

The Russian Bratva's high-ranking members were the only ones that knew the King's right hand was a woman. Ever since Viktor has tried nonstop to woo her.

He was obsessed with her and not in a good way.

"I haven't even gotten to the worst part," she frowned. He clenched his jaw and balled his fists. His body almost drummed in anger.

"We made a deal. If he meets at one of our territories then I have to go alone," she whispered the last part.

Now this, this was the stupidest thing she's ever done.

"What did you just say?" Luca said lowly, still eerily calm. He gripped the metal railing behind her and clutched it hard to release some of the anger that was boiling his blood.

"Don't try to stop m-" she started before he cut her off. He leaned down, close to her until his warm and minty breath fanned her lips.

"Let me get this straight. You are giving yourself up to the man who has sexualized you, and told everyone he meets how he is going to fuck you?" he said through a clenched jaw, his voice low.

God, why wasn't he yelling at her? Anything but his calm yet lethal tone was better than this.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and massaged her temple.

"When you say it like that, it sounds bad," she muttered, looking away in deep thought. He inhaled sharply and exhaled lowly as if keeping his anger at bay.

"No," he finished.

"No?" she recoiled, pulling away from me.

"No. Send someone else," he said, not leaving room for argument.

"I wasn't aski-" she started before he glared at her. She instantly closed her mouth.

"I wasn't either," he scowled.

"I know how to protect myself, you know this. I will be fine and if I'm not, you have my permission to kill him," she reasoned. He stared at her for a good moment, glaring and scowling.

He lowered his head down to her forehead and placed his lips gently on it.

She felt as if all of her insides had melted.