Page 30 of Abundance of Obsession

Two breaths later, I’m standing in front of poor Nelson again.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Serve as an example of what can happen when someone crosses me. Now that we know you have little time left, I want to tell you a secret.”

I pour the contents of the bottle first around his bare feet, then over his body. Though it’s unnecessary, I pour the remaining liquid over his head too. The smell of gasoline fills the air.

The empty bottle lands somewhere in the corner. Then I take a step back, pull a pack out of my pocket, and light a cigarette.

I’ve never been a fan of smoking, but since one particular night, it doesn’t bother me at all.

I take a drag, hold my breath, then exhale the smoke from my mouth. Nelson makes a face because the scent jolts him from his lethargy.

“The first secret is that this basement was specially designed for occasions like this. You already know it’s soundproof. But you need to know it’s fireproof too. Isn’t that fascinating?”

Nelson responds with nothing but a groan.

I’m glad he can hear me. I can continue. “The second secret is that it was my match that burned down James Elliot’s house. And you know what? I don’t regret that son of a bitch one bit, nor that fucking house. Say hi to him for me when you meet him in hell.”

I take another drag, and before I exhale the smoke from my lungs, I toss the cigarette at Nelson.

Within a second, he’s engulfed in flames. With the fire’s touch, he’s brought back to life, and his screams saturate the room. The scream is piercing, filled with pain and terror. The distinctive stench of burning hair and skin reaches me. Of all the things involved in burning someone alive, that’s the least desirable part.

Fascinated, I admire my handiwork for a moment. I doubt my brothers would share my enthusiasm. Perhaps I’ll tell them about it someday.

This is the end of my task here. I turn on my heel and leave poor Nelson to meet his end. The cleanup crew will take care of the mess later.

But before dawn breaks, word will spread through the underground and the streets that I'm no joke.

Chapter 8

Eli

Finding someone to fulfill my sexual appetite isn’t that challenging. In fact, it never has been. People know what I’m all about. A player, a playboy, a man-whore. Their opinions are mere blips on my radar.

Fuck. I even agree with it.

But back to my prey... It only took fifteen minutes of her staring at me from across the bar before she ditched her friends and walked over to my table on her own. Fifteen minutes…

If she knew I was the type of guy her father warned her about, she would never have looked twice at me. If she’d realized how much worse I am than her worst fears, she would have fled. But that’s not how it goes.

Cassandra—that’s how she introduces herself—is the complete opposite of Zoe. I won’t deny it’s her main, though not only, asset.

So my new friend has waist-length blond hair and blue eyes. She has fantastic full breasts, and her lips are plump and inviting. False eyelashes cast shadows on tanned skin. She’s attractive, I’ll give her that, but I suspect it’s not all natural.

Cassandra’s sickeningly sweet, unlike that sassy one—

No, we’re not going there!

Right now, neither her plastic body nor her sweetness bothers me. Not like the last time.

Our meeting serves only one purpose, and she’s well aware of it. However, if she expects to be the one to change my mind and make me believe in love, she’s setting herself up for disappointment. Not my problem anymore.

After thirty minutes of conversation, playful banter, and smiles, we prepare to depart. This time, I won’t mess up. We’re heading to her apartment.

The moment the elevator doors in her building close behind us, Cassandra throws herself at me. Literally. Before I even touch her, she leaps up and wraps her legs around me. My hand finds her backside when I pull her in tighter.

I like how she doesn’t waste precious seconds beating around the bush. With rare courage, she goes after what she wants. Right now, she wants me.

With one hand, I grab the back of her neck, and we make out. Her lips taste like mango mixed with citrus. There’s a hint of alcohol too. Cassandra isn’t drunk, though. She’s tipsy but aware of what she’s doing.