His Broken Obsession

Chapter 7

KIAN

It’s supposed to be four boring years of taking courses that mean nothing to me, but both our dads insist Laurent and I need university degrees before they’ll let us near the companies.

Officially.

The companies. And the syndicate.

Yet the moment I step through the lecture hall doors, my eyes find her.

She’s sitting near the back, surrounded by people who don’t hold a candle to her.

Fake.

The word comes to me before I can question it.

Not her face. There’s nothing wrong with that.

It’s everything else.

The smile. The confidence. The front she is presenting.

Her chin is up, her shoulders straight, and there’s a perfect smile on her face, but her fingers are wrapped too tightly around the strap of her bag. It’s almost like she’s treating the thing as an anchor.

I’ve seen people put on a performance many times before.

Hers is prettier than most.

She turns, and our eyes meet.

Her lips part, and something jolts through me so sharply that I look away for a second.

What the f**k?

I look back, and she’s still staring.

For a moment, nobody else matters.

I want her attention to stay exactly where it is.

Something surges inside me violently.

Innocence like that behind her eyes shouldn’t exist in the midst of such …

Such what? I don’t have the words to describe the walls I see behind that innocence.

I want it.

I want to taint that innocence.

“Man, I hate being here already,” Mason groans, but his grin contradicts him. He’s scanning the room like a predator searching for prey.

“Behave, Mase," Laurent warns lightly beside me. “I’m not cleaning up your mess again.”

“I never make trouble.”

Laurent gives him a look, and he winks.

I ignore them and follow the girl’s gaze when someone beside her speaks.

Blonde hair. Makeup. A familiar face.

“What’s your boy doing over there?” I ask Laurent, and his eyes move towards Harvey.

“He’s free to do whatever he wants as long as he doesn’t misbehave.”

He pulls out his phone, and I know who he is texting.

“Ask him what her name is. The one with the locs.”

Laurent looks at the girl and then back at me. “What do I get in return?”

The thing about us is that nothing is ever free. Not between brothers, cousins, or friends.

That’s how we were raised.

“The paper company in Switzerland. The one you keep bothering me about.”

His brows lift.

Mason turns to stare at me like I’ve lost my mind. “For a name?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Laurent is already typing.

I look back at her. One of the girls has caught her attention, but she glances in my direction again before turning away.

Too late.

“Alora Jones," Laurent says.

I repeat it silently.

Alora.

“Are you sure you want that one?” he asks. “She looks like a lot.”

“She interests me.”

“Anyone with eyes can see that.” Mason teases, but I ignore him.

Laurent studies me for another second before putting his phone away. I don’t bother explaining.

My eyes don’t leave her, not that I give a f**k. She is a stunning sight to behold.

“Do these old men have to be so extra?” Mason asks. “I can count at least ten guards pretending to be students.”

A boy a few rows away suddenly finds something interesting on his tablet.

“Deal with it. It’s not new.” Laurent says.

I lean back, my attention returning to Alora.

My brow jumps when I see Brielle approaching her. Do they know each other?

“What’s this? A reunion or something?” Mason whistles, then turns to me. “Did Brielle follow you here or something?”

“I think she followed a little butterfly," Laurent answers.

Alora goes still when Brielle speaks. I can’t hear every word from here, but I don’t need to. I know that expression on Brielle’s face.

Alora grips her bag, then says something that makes Brielle’s smile disappear.

Interesting.

The girls beside her laugh. Harvey leans forward to add something.

Alora looks almost bored, but her hands tell a different story. She hides them beneath the table, but not before I catch the trembling.

Mason whistles. “Your girl has a mouth on her.”

“She’s not mine.” I correct.

“Right. Because you always offer a company to find out the names of people.”

I ignore him. Brielle looks around at the students laughing, and her face changes. Whatever she says next when she leans in to whisper wipes the smile off Alora’s face.

“What’s that all about?” Mason asks.

“Brielle being Brielle," Laurent answers.

Maybe.

But Alora keeps staring at the table after Brielle walks away. It makes me want to know what Brielle said.

A moment later, Alora looks back, and our eyes meet again.

Her shoulders shift as though she’s remembering how to sit properly. I wonder if she knows how often she does that.

The girl beside her touches her arm and steals her attention back.

By the time the lecture ends, I’ve heard enough about the course to know I’m going to hate it.

Alora looks back once more before packing her things. I’m beginning to enjoy catching her.

We head outside and stop beneath a tree near the cafeteria. Laurent is looking through messages while Mason complains about the lecturer.

I pull out a cigarette and light it. I turn towards the cafeteria just in time to see Alora follow the others to a table without a tray.

I take a drag from the cigarette between my fingers and watch without turning my head towards her.

Harvey says something, gesturing towards the food, but she smiles and declines.

A convincing little performance.

Then she notices me. She keeps staring, thinking I don’t see her, and I let her.

Mason’s phone buzzes. He reads the message, and his face lights up. “We’ve been summoned.”

Mine vibrates a second later with the same message calling us to the headquarters.

I glance towards the headquarters, and Alora flinches when our eyes meet. My mouth curves before I can stop it.

Caught again, Dimples.

She turns, grabs her bag, and stands. One of her friends says something, but she’s already moving.

Laurent follows my gaze.

“Let’s go, K. Leave your obsession for later.” Laurent holds his bag out, and a guard appears to take it.

I leave mine on the floor beside Mason’s, knowing someone will pick them up, and follow them towards the cars.

Separate cars.

Always.

Heirs don’t travel together. At least one of you needs to survive if something happens.

My father has repeated those words to me since I was a child, and they are now drilled into my brain.

I slide into the backseat of my car, and the driver pulls away.

My phone dings with a new notification from our private group chat.

Mason: What do you think they want?

Laurent: Someone probably f****d up.

Kian: I would hate to get my hands bloody today.

Laurent: You never get your hands bloody.

Mason: I'm rock-hard already at the thought of bashing some skulls open.

Kian: Keep your sick tendencies to yourself.

Mason: That’s all Laurent. He owns a f*****g human being. In what world is that normal?

Laurent: Don’t talk about him.

I shake my head. Mason never learns.

Kian: Mase, do you want broken bones again?

Mason: Man, don't go there. I only tried to touch him once. Laurent's a psycho. He's too possessive over the damn boy.

Laurent: That’s it.

I lean back with a smirk. Mason should know better by now.

Hell, I’m his cousin, and even I know not to let my eyes linger on Harvey.

Mason: s**t, Laurent. What the f**k did you do?

Laurent: Answer your call, Mase.

Mason: Kian, you can't keep quiet now, bro. Oh s**t, my phone’s ringing. f**k you, Lau.

Laurent: You wish. You're welcome, by the way.

“Sir, we've arrived."

I put my phone away and step out. Mason is already pacing outside the building.

“A f*****g explosive, really, Laurent?”

“You don't talk about my boy, and I don't do s**t to you.” Laurent waves him off and makes his way into the building.

“Get it fixed before your old man finds out.” I pat Mason’s shoulder as I pass him.

“Oh man," he whips out his phone and makes a few calls.

We fall quiet as we ride the elevator to the top floor.

We pass a security check before we are let into the room. Relatives or not, nobody gets to bypass it.

I trust Laurent and Mason with my life, and I’m certain they trust me with theirs, but none of us is stupid enough to say it out loud.

My dad and uncle are sitting side by side on a couch in the large office, wearing matching frowns.

At first glance, people mistake them for twins. Emerson has grey eyes, which I inherited. Isaiah’s are blue, like Laurent's. My uncle is taller, but my dad is broader.

Both men, however, are men of few words and cunning as hell.

Jacob Richards steps into the room shortly afterwards. He’s large, intimidating, and ruthless. Everything you’d expect from a man who manufactures weapons for the military.

Jacob places a file on the table and takes the seat opposite my dad and uncle.

“Take it,” Isaiah says.

Mason reaches for it before either of us can move. He flips through the pages, and his irritation disappears.

“We are going hunting," he announces with glee in his golden eyes.

“Who?” I ask, leaning against the wall.

“Kevin Adams. Stole a shitload of cocaine and money."

“Must be tired of living," Laurent comments, and I nod in agreement. You’d think people would know better than to steal from us by now.

“It’s not a job for you three,” My dad says. “There are already rumors about this family’s connections. We don’t need you giving anyone evidence.”

Mason looks up from the file. “Then why are we here?”

“Because you’re taking over eventually,” Jacob says. “You need to understand what you’ll be dealing with.”

“And reading a file is supposed to do what? Equip us with unfathomable knowledge on how to deal with a rat?” Laurent scoffs.

My dad turns to him. “Watch your tone. You’re not above discipline.”

Laurent looks away.

“Let's do it. We’ll be discreet. I'm f*****g bored anyways," Mason whines.

Everyone knows Mason doesn't do discreet things.

“It’s not our first time,” Laurent adds, apparently deciding that this is worth his time.

Now my dad looks at me. I know that expression.

Are you going to join in?

I hold out my hand to Mason, and he passes me the file. I scan the first few pages. “We can handle it quietly.”

“I trust Kian. He's more level-headed than these two," Isaiah says to my father and Jacob.

“Tonight. No side stories." My father pins me with a hard glare, and I give him a curt nod in response before the three of us step out of the office.

“Alert the boys,” I tell Mason as we enter the elevator. “Find somewhere we can take him without drawing attention.”

“I know a few places.”

“An alley might work.” I propose.

Laurent looks at me. “That’s a tacky location.”

“That is the opposite of discreet,” Mason adds.

“Don’t you like the idea of him thinking he can call out for help to the people passing by as we rip him to shreds? I'm in the mood to play with my food."

Mason's grin widens. “And they say you're the level-headed one."