His Obsession

Chapter 4

Domiano P.O.V.

Another glass of whiskey was brought to me by nobody but my sister, she is the only woman I would ever trust with pouring me a drink and not poisoning me- well, scratch that. I have never given my sister a reason to poison me and I intend to keep it that way.I watched the crowd, the mothers throwing their barely legal daughters at the older rich men on the possibility that they might get to see beaches and more fancy clothes.

I watched and thought about each mom throwing her daughter, effectively ruining her chances at ever kinding a chance at true happiness- what’s the best way to ruin every single one of them? My eyes darted back to her, she wasn’t like the rest of the women here, she wasn’t touching them on the shoulders or trying to give them the ‘s*x eyes’, the ones that beg every man to f**k her. She blushed and giggled freely but she never touched them. Her hands always remained close to her body and in front of her while she greeted my guests. It irked something inside of me watching her giggle at some joke that they said, a storm brewing inside of me while I contemplated how fast I could shoot them before she figured out just how dangerous I really am.

“Get rid of that one.” I growled, clenching my jaw and staring at the man that just made her blush again.

“Brother, you can’t get rid of every single guest that makes her blush.” Mateo said sarcastically. Part of me wanted to grab him by his throat and ask him who was in charge but I didn’t, instead I smirked.

“Watch me.” I challenged, using my hand to signal someone from security to come over to me. The man walked over as calmly as possible but with a bit of urgency, “Yes, Mister Moretti?” he asked, eager to make me happy.

“See that women in the dark red dress?” I asked, pointing at her with my eyes.He nodded, not needing to give me a verbal response.

“Every time that she laughs at a man and he doesn’t disappear i’m taking a thousand off your next check. Right now let’s start at fifty thousand and see where you end up at the end of the night.” I glared at him, making it as clear as possible that, that woman is off limits.

“Yes, sir. I will have her taken care of.” he blurted out, looking at my vixen laughing at another one fo his jokes.

“Oh, and if that doesn’t work. If you have nothing left at the end of the night then I’ll start taking body parts. Make sure I don’t have to take body parts, that is a messy profession and I don’t want my tux to get dirty.” I smirked, finishing off my drink and watching the young man walk away from me as fast as possible.

“And you wonder why nobody undermines you.” Annabelle scoffs.

“By the way her name, if you want to know that instead of just calling her ‘yours’ is Poppy Delaney. She’s the artist for the painting that I picked tonight and the rest we are still working on. She is pretty private for her age and profession.” Annabelle whispered, trying to keep her information a secret.

Another drink was placed in front of me by our middle brother, Carter, “Keep digging. I want to know everything about my future wife.” I smirked, looking at the confusion on Poppy’s face when the man she had been giggling at decided that he needed to walk away swiftly when my favorite security detail whispered something in his ear.

She stood amongst the crowd of impeccably,lavishly dressed elitist, a splash of turquoise in a sea of muted greys and blacks. Her red silk dress moved with her, a masterpiece that seemed to move effortlessly with her, the lavish material seemed to catch and reflect the light with her every subtle movement and ragged breath. The color highlighting the fire reimagined within her dark auburn locks and the ocean that danced within her blue-grey eyes.

Her dark auburn hair messily styled into a loose braid and tiny pieces of her hair escaped framing her delicate face. Her braid cascading down her back elegantly, there was a complete captivating duality within her face: a complete innocence within her that can’t be faked or even ignored, an almost ethereal beauty to her between her high cheek bones that only made her eyes even more breathtaking and her delicate jawline that contrasted deeply with the fiery and defiance that danced within her passionate and expressive eyes.

When she laughed,, the air in my lungs was pushed out and I was left breathless from the sound. My stomach turned upside down and I thought I was going to throw up in the moment, not because it was disgusting or even the worst sound I had ever heard. She had spent half the evening laughing, something that I thought was precious or real but right now- right now was a real, uncorrupted laughter that made me assured I would do anything for her.

I don’t know what made her laugh, I can’t even remember who it was right now but I know that I would shoot a man and not even think twice just to hear that sound again. I would gladly let the world burn on the off chance that I might be given the chance to see and hear her light up like that again. The things that I would do just to hear that laughter was growing with the seconds that passed, and there wasn’t much that wouldn’t be on the list.

Her laughter lit up the room with a vibrancy and warmth of a thousand candles while the sweet sound cut through the polite murmured conversations and clinking of glasses.Everything about the sweet sound was almost alien to the people inside the room- the people who plot their every move and countermove, the way they smile to the way they will brush their hair. Her laughter was real- authentic, free of expectations. Her laughter is free of expectations and cultivated affections that threatened to strangle me within this grand room.