His Crimson Obsession

Chapter nine — Obsessed

Luke’s POV

There aren’t many things in this world that surprise me. Not anymore. Not after a lifetime with Nigel.

But that night in the car, watching him stare through the café window like a starving man catching sight of food for the first time in years—I’ll admit, I was stunned.

Nigel didn’t get interested. Not in anything outside the empire. Not in people. Certainly not in women. Not since… well. Not since the incident.

He wasn’t the type to soften. He didn’t laugh at casual jokes, didn’t flirt, didn’t linger over the curves of some socialite like other men in our circle did. Nigel had been a fortress. Untouchable. Cold. And maybe that’s what made him so damn powerful.

But tonight… tonight, something had shifted.

I’d heard it earlier, when he called me—his voice raw with rage. “Find out the bastards that touched my girl. And make them pay.”

My girl.

That phrase had clawed under my skin. Nigel didn’t call anyone his. Not anymore.

At first I thought it was just rage, maybe pride. But then I saw the way his jaw flexed when Gabriella laughed at another man’s joke, and I knew. This wasn’t a flicker. This was fire.

---

Lora, of course, had to push her luck.

“She’s cute,” she said, smirking. “Didn’t know you were into this type, Nigel. Sweet, stubborn girls pouring coffee for minimum wage? Not exactly your usual taste.”

I nearly groaned at how stupid she was. My twin had a death wish.

Nigel turned his head, slowly, and locked those blue cold eyes on her. “I never had a type,” he said. Calm. Too calm. “Until now.”

Her smirk died instantly. She covered it with a laugh, but her shoulders went stiff. Smart girl.

That was the moment I knew Gabriella wasn’t a distraction. She wasn’t just a passing interest. She had him—whether she knew it or not.

But I’d seen Nigel’s eyes soften once before—years ago. The night he held the love of his life in his arms, blood soaking through his shirt, and swore vengeance against the world.

He hadn’t felt emotions since. Not for anyone.

And that was the thing that scared me most. If Gabriella could stir emotions in him, I wasn’t sure if that made her the luckiest woman alive… or the most doomed.

---

Later that night, when it was just me and him, I tested the waters.

“You really want me digging into this guy?” I asked, flipping through the notes I’d already started collecting. “The one she laughed at? Looked harmless. Student, maybe.”

“Doesn’t matter what he looked like,” Nigel muttered. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, knuckles gripping the armrest so tight they turned white. “I want everything. His name. His history. Who he f***s, where he eats, what time he breathes.”

I whistled low. “Bit much for a barista’s buddy, don’t you think?”

His head snapped toward me, his eyes staring daggers at me. “Do I look like I’m f*****g joking, Luke?”

“No,” I said, holding up my hands. “Just checking how deep we’re going on this.”

“As deep as it takes,” he said.

And just like that, it was settled.

---

By the time I pulled the files together, I found him in his office. Nigel was seated behind his desk, posture perfect, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. The desk lamp threw shadows across his face, making those blue eyes look even darker, sharper. An untouched glass of whiskey sat beside the ashtray, like he’d been waiting for me before taking a single sip.

His gaze locked on me the moment I stepped inside. Calm. Too calm.

“Well?” His voice was steady, but the undercurrent in it prickled down my spine.

I set the folder on the polished desk between us. “Name’s Jacob Vitale. Twenty-four. University kid. Works part-time at the bookstore across from the café. No criminal record. No ties to anyone we know. Just… normal, one of the few people close to Gabriella.”

Nigel flipped through the papers, jaw tightening with every page.

“He’s been in the café almost every afternoon for the last few months,” I added. “Sits in her section if he can. Talks to her. Makes her laugh.”

“Her laugh isn’t his to have.” The words were quiet, but his grip crushed the folder like it was nothing.

I hesitated. “Nigel… he’s harmless. Just some kid with a crush.”

He gave me a look that said I’d better shut the f**k up.

“Do I need to remind you what happens when people get too close?” he said, voice low, dangerous.

“No,” I muttered. Because I remembered. God help me, I remembered.

He exhaled slowly, like he was trying to leash himself. But I could see it—the restraint was thin, cracking.

---

After handing him the report, I left his office, closing the heavy door behind me. That’s when I nearly walked right into Vato leaning against the wall, grinning like he’d been waiting.

“Well, well,” he drawled. “Our Prince finally found himself a play thing, huh?”

I froze, narrowed my eyes. “You hear too much.”

“I listen,” he said with a shrug, pushing off the wall. “Big difference. So? Who’s the lucky girl that’s got him all tied up in knots?”

“Not your business,” I said flatly, brushing past him.

Vato followed beside me, unbothered. “Come on, Luke baby. You can trust me. I won’t tell. Besides—kinda nice seeing the Ice King loosen up for once, don’t you think?”

I shot him a cold glare. Anyone else would’ve backed off. Vato just smirked wider, eyes flashing. He clearly enjoyed poking fun at me.

“You’re no fun,” he murmured.

“And you’re too nosy,” I snapped.

He leaned close enough for me to catch the faint smell of his cologne, smoke and spice, like he’d just finished showering. “Maybe I like seeing what gets you riled up, babe.” He let the word drag out, a taunt more than a pet name.

I stopped cold, shooting him a glare. “Try harder. There aren’t any. And don’t call me babe. That was a one-time thing.”

Vato’s grin widened. “One time’s still a time, Luke baby. Means you’re not made of stone, no matter how much you like to pretend.”

I clenched my jaw. He was impossible. Infuriating. And worse, he knew it.

Before I could bite back, a familiar voice sliced between us.

“Ugh, Vato, you disgusting pig, what are you doing to my brother?”

Lora. Of course. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed, practically glaring daggers at Vato.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Vato drawled, turning his smirk her way. “You’re just jealous your brother’s spending more time with me than you.”

“Keep dreaming, Vato.” She scoffed sarcastically, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “And please. Do my brother a favor and stay ten feet away from him. The last thing Luke needs is you sniffing around like a stray dog.”

I took my chance and kept walking, leaving them to snap at each other like alley cats. Behind me, their voices clashed in insults—Vato laughing, Lora fuming—and for a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.

But deep down, I couldn’t shake the weight in my chest. Because Nigel’s stare, Nigel’s hunger, Nigel’s fire—I’d seen it before. And now, it was starting again.

The difference was simple.

Back then, Nigel had nothing left to lose.

Now?

Now he had her.

And God help anyone who tried to take her from him.