His Darkest Obsession; Our Dirty Little Secret

Terror

HER

“You kissed her?!” Sera inquired, her nose scrunched up as she stared blankly at the tall teenager in front of her.

Mikhail, her guardian's son, was almost 5’8” with bulky muscles threatening to peek through despite his slim build. They were currently outside, taking in the cool breeze of the afternoon.

“What? You're making me very uncomfortable. I'm a made man,” Mikhail declared, and stared at her like she was questioning the obvious.

She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “And you're what, FOURTEEN years old! The fact that you've killed a couple lads, and you're so tall now, doesn't mean you can do adult things.”

Sera had come to visit Denisk, her guardian, when she was informed he wasn't around, and Mikhail had decided to keep her company and tell her about his recent romantic exploits. She always referred to Denisk as her guardian even though it sounded strange. Denisk’s men had found her lurking around in the woods after she'd run from her town to avoid getting captured by the men who invaded her father's territory. Her parents were killed, and… it was a memory Sera decided to push away.

Denisk had decided to keep her even after everyone advised him that it was a bad idea. They didn't want to cross the Italian syndicate, and after hearing that she had escaped from them, they were beyond terrified. But Denisk took her in regardless, and she'd stayed with him until three years ago. Mikhail was just four years old when she was brought here, and she'd basically watched him grow, along with his siblings.

“I’m a made man, Sera. Don't be stupid,” Mikhail declared, giving her a look that suggested he believed she was stupid.

Sera scoffed. It wasn't surprising that the boy she'd watched cry a few times now thought he was superior to her. It wasn't unusual in the underworld, and Mikhail was now a made man.

She waved her hands dismissively. “Fine! If you don't want me to give my opinion, then don't tell me about it! I don't want to hear how you almost did whatever you did!”

Mikhail shook his head. “No… You must listen,” he pressed and was about to say something else but stiffened.

Sera frowned, wondering why he suddenly stopped. He was looking behind her, suddenly on guard with a stoic expression on his face. That could only mean… “Sera!” a familiar voice called out.

“Denisk,” She acknowledged without turning around. She could tell he was pissed. Mikhail excused himself, leaving her alone with Denisk.

“What is this I am hearing about you going to Palermo tonight?”

Sera finally turned around to look at Denisk. She noted the new white hairs springing from his head and his stressed expression. Mikhail was like the taller version of his dad, and they shared the same deep brown eyes.

She sighed. “What you heard is correct…”

“You're not going!” he ordered.

“I have to go. I've wasted enough time…”

“I said no! You are moving too fast. Do you know how ruthless Cassian Vale is?”

Sera stiffened at the question. Cassian Vale. The head of the syndicate, the Capo, death's companion. The strategist behind a thousand silent executions. The only man who had actually terrified her at one point in her life. He was the devil. Cold and unpredictable. Cassian Vale was not a regular underworld boss. Unlike the basic, terrible, and unnecessarily violent leaders, he actually had a brain. He was unusually smart, and that is why everyone was terrified of him, including the syndicate elders. People would rather burn alive than get noticed by him, but she was doing all she could to challenge him. She was challenging the devil.

“I told you to wait. You're not thinking this through,” Denisk said. He was not doing a good job of hiding his anger.

“I'm tired of waiting. Every single day, I've watched how indestructible the syndicate has gotten. It's not fair that they are thriving after all they have done to people and to me! I want to destroy them.” Sera's voice was filled with disgust and hatred.

Denisk shook his head, then lashed out.

“You don't just get to destroy the syndicate. No one does, and certainly not on their own, Sera. You disobeyed me; I don't like it. You've attacked three times already in less than two months. Do you know how dangerous that is? Do you know what the syndicate can do?”

Sera stared at him in disbelief. She remembered the sound of polished shoes echoing down a hallway where her father had just been dragged out. She could never forget the cold calculation in the eyes of the man who never pulled the trigger but made every decision that led to the pull: the dead Capo’s brother. The same man that tried to… It led her to another memory. Sera touched the scar on her jaw absentmindedly.

The scar was from that day, that exact moment. Everything that happened that day led to years of hiding, missions that turned her into something else, and the desire to survive. She knew how dangerous her plan was, but all her common sense was clouded by rage.

Sera took a step back. “Are you seriously asking me that? Have you forgotten what…”

Denisk’s eyes softened for a second, and he shook his head. “I didn't mean it that way. You know it…”

“I still have nightmares, Denisk! I still smell his blood, and… I… I remember it all. It's not something I can just forget!” Sera spat out.

“I'm not asking you to forget. Again, I’m asking you to wait…”

“I don't want to wait!”

“I want to help you,” Denisk said impatiently. “You know it. I've just been waiting for the right time because…”

“Because you don't want to jeopardize Mikhail’s chances of joining the syndicate soon along with the rest,” Sera finished for him.

Denisk had left his home in Russia as a teenager to find a better life in Italy after his father was disgraced for betraying his Don, leaving his family poor and helpless. He came here with his mother and worked under Cassian's late father, who later awarded him this small town to rule after he proved his loyalty. Now, he wanted his sons, born here and of the soil, to join the syndicate properly and gain power and respect. Despite how much Denisk had accomplished, he was still seen as an outcast.

“I get it, and that's why I don't want you involved. You've helped me enough, and I'd die of guilt if you or the people under you suffered the repercussions that would come from helping me.” Sera took a sharp breath and shook her head. “It's easier if it's just me. That way, I won't carry the guilt of you or others getting hurt. I've thought this through. I need to go now. It's getting late. Don't find me, please.” Sera turned and hastened toward the huge gates.

“Sera! Stop right there!” Sera could hear Denisk calling after her, but she ignored him and pushed past the guards in front of the iron gates. She had to do what she had to do, and there was no stopping her.

~~~

The fire was already dying by the time she finally walked away. The scent of ash clung to her coat and stitched itself into her skin, but she welcomed it. That was the smell of victory. The smell of everything she dared to do, and how she didn't fear or tremble. It was a reminder that she tried again. And this time she hoped it would get to the syndicate, because if it didn't, she would try again. It could be a never-ending cycle, and she still wouldn't care. That's how determined she was.

She pulled the black hood lower over her face and disappeared into the early morning fog like she never existed.

He would see it. This was the fourth warehouse she had burned down, and though she was aware it wouldn't cost anything for the syndicate to rebuild it, she was still satisfied.

Cassian Vale… He would definitely watch the footage. And he would finally figure out all the attacks were linked.

She crossed the street without haste, like a ghost moving through the cracks of a city that had already forgotten her. People passed, unaware. Streetlights buzzed overhead, washing her in dull gold. She walked with her hands in her pockets, back straight, chin level. Always level, and never afraid. She couldn't even afford to be afraid. In fact, she could not afford to be afraid at all.

The syndicate wouldn’t expect a woman. They wouldn’t expect her, and that was the beauty of it. She had to fight the demons within her just so she would not openly challenge him. She couldn't afford to openly challenge the devil just yet, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to.

She slipped into a café near the edge of the district. It was quiet and unimpressive at first sight. The kind of place criminals overlooked and old poets died in. A bell chimed softly as she entered. The man behind the counter didn’t even look up.

Perfect. Just as she liked it. To be unnoticed because she didn't seem like a threat or someone capable of evil. Until she struck. Unlike Cassian, whose presence was enough to kill, hers was the exact opposite for now. She sat at the far end, back to the wall, one boot hooked under the chair leg, her fingers still tingling from the last ignition.

Her reflection ghosted in the window… too dim to be clear, but enough to catch glimpses of the faint scar along the curve of her jaw, and she absentmindedly touched it again.

Aggressively challenging Cassian Vale wouldn’t free her. That would just lead to her death. She wasn't stupid enough to think she could stand up against the man upfront. He was the devil. Breaking him and the syndicate would be the hardest thing she'd ever do. She didn't know if it would ever be possible to actually break them, but she didn't care. She would try. Piece by piece, even if it led to her death.