Dark Obsession (Famiglia Book 4)

by Andrea Joy

  “One day you’re going to realize that the two of you are meant for each other, but when that day comes, I just hope that there are no innocent bystanders. You can’t survive without each other, Mason. You and Sofia are like a shark and the ocean. She's your home. She will always be your home... your ocean.” When Klara’s done her little speech, she gives me a pointed look that says I’m exhausting her before she drops her head in a sigh and rejoins the celebrations going on in the backyard.

  You can’t survive without each other, Mason.

  Her words echo through my thoughts as I throw the vehicle in drive and speed away from the curb. I did just fine before Sofia De Luca, and I’ll be fine after her.

  Lie.

  “What are doing here?” My words come out slurred when I throw open the door to a drenched Sofia still in her wedding dress. “Shouldn’t you be consummating your marriage?”

  I throw back the shot of bourbon and sway a little, striking out a hand against the wall to keep me up right.

  She’s quiet for so long before she whispers. “you were there.”

  It’s not a question.

  “Of course I was there. Wouldn’t want to miss out on you finally getting your happily ever after,” I sneer. Happy ever after is a joke made up by the rich to get richer and give people something to look forward to in their small, meaningless lives. I throw back the glass, but no liquid comes out. Huh, could’ve sworn I refilled it.

  “You didn’t say anything.” She’s staring at me like I’m a puzzle she wants to figure out. Well, I have news for her. I’m not as great as she wants to believe I am. I’m fucked up and broken and I’ll taint her beauty if given a chance. Hell, I did, though, didn’t I? Sofia isn’t as innocent as people thinks she is. It should’ve been me up there with her.

  What the fuck? No. I did the whole wedding and marriage thing. I have no plans of doing it again.

  “You didn’t fight for me. You said you’d always fight for me,” she accuses, her voice rising by the end. Her chest heaves visibly in the low-cut dress.

  “No. That was you. You said you’d never leave. You got fucking married today, Sofia. What the fuck was I supposed to fight for? In case you forgot, he proposed… you said yes. You planned a wedding. You walked down the aisle. You could’ve stopped it at any point.”

  She lifts a hand to wipe something off her cheek and I have to really squint and strain through the liquor haze to notice that it’s not just rain running down her face.

  “And you gave up without a fight,” I say.

  She looks at me with disgust and for the first time in a really long time, I feel disgusted with myself too. Picking up her dress, she turns and moves back down the front walkway to an idling Uber I hadn’t noticed until now. Despite the rain ruining her hair and makeup she still looks painfully beautiful. I’m not even aware I’m moving until I watch as my hand reaches out of its own accord and wraps around her upper arm, halting her from getting back into the car.

  “Answer me one question. If your answer is no, I will fight for you and I’ll keeping fucking fighting every damn day of my life to see you happy. But if your answer is yes, then I did the right thing today and you need to move on.”

  She sniffs, looking back over to my house before her exhausted eyes swing back to mine. “What’s your questions.”

  “Are you happy? Genuinely happy.” I can tell my question takes her by surprise, and I’m almost certain that she’ll answer right away with no hesitation but then she fucking hesitates. Her perfect white teeth sink into her bottom lip and her eyes sever their connection to mine. Despite the cold September rain, my body heats from the anger and frustration boiling my blood. I throw the glass towards the house hearing it crash into tiny shards against the rock wall and run my fingers through my hair, gripping and tugging on the strands.

  “What do you want from me, Sofia? Please, tell me because I have no fucking clue. You’re mad because I didn’t stand up in front of everyone and object to your marriage. You’re mad that I didn’t fight for you, but when I ask if your happy with him… really happy your answer is yes? I don’t know what you want from me! My heart? You fucking have it. My blood? I’ll slit my wrists and bleed for you right now. You want my money? It’s yours. My cars? My house? All yours. Just fucking tell me what it is you want!”

  She’s full on sobbing now and not bothering to hide it. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek. “I’m sorry.” Rain drops cling to her dark lashes, and it takes everything left in me to not reach out and wipe them away. My fingers itch with need to touch her when her next words fill the air. “I want you, Mason.”

  This situation is so fucked up, I can’t do anything but laugh. We’re standing in a downpour, her in a wedding dress, me in the black dress pants and white shirt I wore to watch her get married in, and she’s telling me she wants me. Without thinking, I grip her hips and pull her towards me, angling my head down to kiss her. Sofia’s breath hitches at the first contact but then she relaxes under my touch and leans into me, wrapping her arms around my neck. As much as I want to keep kissing her, to weld our souls together until there’s no telling where the other begins or ends, it’s too painful.

  I rip my lips from hers, both of us panting for desperate breaths. Palming her cheeks, I tip her head down and press one final kiss to her forehead, trying to keep my own tears at bay. Real men don’t cry, Mason. My father’s words echo back to me from a time long ago. When her fingers curl into the material at my lower back, I remove my hands from her face and reach back to grip her wrists and pull them off of me.

  “Go back to your husband, Sofia. Celebrate your marriage. Be happy.”

  “Mason,” she chokes out on a sob but I’m already halfway up the front walk. I keep my back to her yelling my name, begging me to stop, as I enter the quiet house and close the door behind me with nothing more than a silent click.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  SOFIA

  I want to go after him. To hold him and feel his body against mine. To tell him that if I could have a do-over, I’d choose him. I’d choose him again and again and again. But I can’t. Part of the deal was having to lie to the one man I love. My feet stay rooted to the spot and I watch as slowly one by one the lights in the large house get turned off. I continue staring at the brick monstrosity long after it’s gone completely dark.

  The sound of a car door opening behind me is the only sound in the quiet night. Shoes crunch on the gravel as he walks around the black car and over to me.

  “Well done, Sofia. I didn’t think you had it in you. Although, I half expected you to ruin it there for a second.” He tsks, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “That would have been very bad for you and him.”

  “You knew he was there today.” I’m clenching my back teeth so hard; the tension is giving me another migraine.

  “I saw him come in and leave, yes.”

  That’s it. So matter of fact. He doesn’t care that he’s ruining my life one deception at a time.

  “Are you happy now? He hates me.”

  “You stupid girl. Mason James will always love you, but at least for now he’s out of the picture. Come, Wife.” He opens the car door for me and waits impatiently while I get in.

  “I’m sorry, Mason,” I whisper to the empty car seconds before my new husband opens the driver’s side door and climbs in.

  We drive in silence back to the house that will become my new home. My prison with my husband as the warden.

  The old Victorian style house sits back against tall white pine trees that back onto a stream. Large black oaks line the long driveway up to the house. If you aren’t looking for the house, you’d never know it existed amongst all these trees. It’s perfectly secluded while only being just over an hour away from Toronto. An hour away from Mason.

  Simon pulls the sleek black car into the far-left section of the three-car garage and cuts the engine. Before the garage door has a chance to close completely, his hand shoots out to grab a chunk of my
hair and yanks my head back making me cry out in pain.

  “Don’t think I didn’t know what you were trying to accomplish back there. Making him think he ever had a chance of claiming you.”

  “I had to say those things. He’d never believe me otherwise.” I wince, my hand going to the back of my head where Simon still has a tight hold around my hair.

  “One step out of line, Sofia, and I won’t hesitate to give the order to kill him. Your cousin won’t survive either. One call and he goes to prison,” he sneers before his face relaxes into a smug grin. “Now, be a good wife and suck your husband’s dick.”

  Simon works open the front of his pants with one hand while the other maintains its grip around my hair. As soon as he has his belt and zipper undone and his cock out, the hand wrapped around my hair forces me down. The seat belt I’m still wearing digs into my side and it’s painful, but I learnt my lesson to never resist or argue with him. He thrives on pain and fear.

  I inhale a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut, praying that no tears leak free and part my lips accepting that this is now my life. But at least Mason’s still alive. It’s the only thing keeping me from gagging around Simon’s length, from sinking my teeth into him and using those minutes to scramble from the car and run.

  “Don’t you dare make a mess in this car,” he manages to growl seconds before his hand’s putting pressure on the back of my head and liquid heat fills my mouth and sliding down my throat.

  Tears finally leak out the corners of my eyes as I try hard to swallow it all without gagging or it spilling out of the corners of my mouth that’s still wrapped around him.

  After several seconds, Simon relents on his hold and I take advantage of the freedom. Shooting up in my seat and suck in lungful’s of air in between coughs.

  Simon tucks himself back in his pants and pushes out of the car. I watch his predatory movements around the car with dread curling in my belly. I know that look and I fear what follows it. He flips the cover of the alarm pad beside the door and inputs the security code. He doesn’t wait for me to get out of the car and follow him before he pushes open the door and disappears inside the house.

  I take the few minutes I have to myself and let my head drop back against the seat. When Simon first approached me with his proposal, there was no mention of anything turning sexual between us, but I should’ve fucking known that he wouldn’t settle for anything less. We were married for fucks sake. Married! What the hell did I expect to happen.

  “You were fucking naive, Sofia,” I tell myself in the quietness of the car.

  ‘Sofia!” Simon’s voice booms through the still open door to the house and I flinch.

  “Better get used to it,” I say to myself. “This is your life now.”

  With a deep breath, I undo my seat belt and push open the car door. I exit the vehicle and gather up the train of my dress. Ready to face my fate, whatever that may entail now

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  MASON

  After I left Sofia standing in my driveway in the rain, I can’t bring myself to head upstairs to my bedroom. The memories of Sofia and I in that bed are too much after seeing her standing at the top of the aisle and promising to spend her life with that snake.

  “I want you, Mason.”

  Hours later and her words still haunt me. I stumble into my kitchen and fling open one of the bottom cupboards and another and another until I finally find what I’m looking for. I already finished the rest of the bourbon that’s sat on my counter for the better part of six months, but it’s done jack shit to dim the voices and fade the images of her in that fucking wedding dress or him with his arm around her, his ring on her finger. Dropping to my knees, I rummage through the cupboard until my fingers curl around the bottle I’m looking for. I pull it out and pivot to sit on the cold tiled floor with my back pressed to the painted wood. The first drink erases the image of Sofia slipping her hand in Simon’s when she met him at the altar. The second drink erases the hope that flared in my chest when she showed up. Hope that maybe she hadn’t gone through with it, but then I’d seen the band framing the engagement ring on her finger and I knew. I knew she hadn’t run out on her wedding.

  The third drink erases the memory of her walking down the aisle while I watched from the sidelines. But no matter how many drinks I take from the bottle, none of them will ever erase the memory of her standing in the rain, with tears in her eyes, telling me she wants me. Pain lances through my chest because despite her words, despite the truth I saw in her eyes when she spoke those words, she still didn’t trust me enough to tell me about Simon blackmailing her. She didn’t trust me enough to protect her. Instead, she kept too tight to her chest and agreed to whatever he demanded. She still doesn’t know that we’ve figured it out. And maybe some of my anger is better directed at Braxton because with all his power he could’ve fucking stopped today from happening. He could’ve pulled Sofia aside and told her that he knows. He could’ve had Simon brought to the basement. Painted that damn floor with Simon’s blood, but he did none of it and instead I watched another love slip through my fingers.

  Bringing my knees up, I drop my head back against the edge of the counter with a thud, barely noticing the pinch of pain at the back of my head and dangle the bottle between my bent legs. I’m not sure how long I sit here for, but at some point, Bowser fits himself to my side and lays down, resting his head on his front paws.

  “How did things go so wrong, Em?”

  As always, she doesn’t answer, but even if she could I would suspect she’d tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself and do something about it if I don’t like the outcome.

  Fuck this.

  Leaving the bottle on the floor, I get to my feet and pat down my pockets to make sure my wallet and keys are still there. Satisfied when I feel the telltale bulges, I head towards the garage, grabbing the helmet hanging from the handlebar of my bike and swing a leg over the machine. It’s been years since I’ve taken the bike out, Emily used to love it. The thrill of being on the back, the wind in her face, the fact that there was nothing but leather protecting her in case of a crash. Sofia hated it. She refused to get on the back of the bike whenever I suggested we go for a ride.

  The engine revs to life between my thighs while I wait for the garage door to slide up high enough for me to through. Once it does, I take off. Not bothering to shut it behind me. My neighbours will let me know if anyone snoops around while I’m gone. Nosey fuckers.

  It takes me about forty minutes to reach my destination. I pull into a parking spot around back, shut off the bike, and pull open the heavy metal door with my helmet under my arm. It takes my eyes a minute to adjust to the darkness of the club, but when they do, they automatically land on the empty VIP booth. Since everyone was at Sofia’s wedding earlier this afternoon, I’m not surprised that none of the other co-owners are here.

  “Master James, what can I get for you?” Derek drawls in a thick southern accent he likes to break out every now and then. To switch things up, he used to say.

  Thinking about the bottle I left behind at home, I order a couple fingers of the same bourbon, and drag the club iPad closer. What I need is a submissive who’s willing to push their pain limits. One who will submit everything to me in a nonsexual play. After scrolling through numerous pages, I finally find the one I’m looking for and see that she’s scheduled for a scene tonight with another Dom. I make a note for the hostess to let her know to meet me in my room when she’s done, and then hand the iPad to Derek.

  With my drink in hand, I make my rounds making sure everyone is adhering to the rules downstairs before making my way up to the playrooms. The ones at the start of the hallway are public and open for anyone to come in and watch. The middle ones are semi-private, they each have a viewing window and the opacity can be changed depending on the level of voyeurism needed for a scene. The ones at the very end of the hallway are private. They don’t have a viewing window and a code is needed to open the door. There are ni
ne rooms in total up here, and four VIP rooms downstairs that are only accessible to higher paying members and co-owners. Each room is equipped with its own bed and bathroom, including a shower. The VIP rooms also come with their own kitchenette for when an overnight stay is requested. There’s also a larger public playroom downstairs in the basement for those more into the Daddy/little kink.

  Entering the code for the last door on the right, I walk into the dimly lit room and place my drink down on a nearby table. I haven’t been into any of the rooms in a while, so it takes me a minute to get my bearings on where all the toys are again, but after a while I’ve found everything I need and lay them out on the bed. We won’t be using it, but I like having everything within reach.

  A few minutes later, I hear the lock on the door disengage and then click closed again.

  “Master James, you requested me?”

  I turn to find my Sub already on her knees behind me, her head bowed and palms resting on her knees. I inhale deeply through my nose and let the breath out slowly, feeling my mind shut down and my Dominant side come out to play. This is what I need. This is what I crave after the events of today. Something that’s within my control.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  SOFIA

  With shaky hands I unclip my seat belt just in time for him to pull open my door and grab me by my hair again. Nothing has changed in the weeks since our wedding day. I was a fool to think that tonight’s dinner out would be different. Would be the start of maybe a mutual respect or at least a mutual understanding. Simon yanks me out of the car and pulls me along with him as he walks into the house and kicks the door closed behind him.