The Italian Obsession Novels & Stories

“Merely observing. But a warning never hurts anyone.” I let my jaw tighten. “Well, I’m observant too. And I bite hard when warned unnecessarily. Because from my point of view you’ve been doing that more than enough now.” His smirk widened, almost pleased. “I can see that. Makes things… more interesting.” “Interesting?” I snapped, leaning in a little closer, voice sharp. “Careful or ‘interesting’ becomes annoying, and I don’t back down easily.” He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the pushback. “This is Italy not America, little miss, you know that right?”

Jo asked. "We are going tomorrow to Italy for meeting him. And no I haven't seen his face, I am not interested in looking at him." "Italy! You didn't tell us he is Italian!" Jo exclaimed. "So what if that he is Italian?" I asked. "Are you kidding me? Italian men are hot! Especially their accent! God, I would have an orgasm just by hearing it." Chris exclaimed. He looked enthusiastic as if he is marrying him, I won't mind though.

" I asked again. "What do they say? " he brought his face a bit closer to mine and gave me a pretty smile and asked. I was wondering if I should ask him something like this or not. " Do you wish it not to be a girl ? " I asked awkwardly. I didn't know if it was appropriate to ask him something like that but I did anyway. I wasn't thinking much while asking. He laughed a bit and looked up at the sky again. "Who knows! I just never found anyone for whom I could be obsessed," he replied.

Isabella had started as a tool, as leverage, as a way to gather intelligence and hurt Dimitri. But somewhere along the way, she'd become something else. She'd become an obsession. And obsessions were dangerous. Obsessions made men make mistakes. Obsessions got people killed. Luca had seen it before. Dante had been fixated on revenge against Dimitri since Salvatore died. But this thing with Isabella, this was different. This was something that was taking root deep in Dante's psyche. If Luca wasn't careful, if he didn't manage this properly, the obsession with Isabella was going to be what destroyed Dante.

It was a tangible reminder of that fleeting moment of vulnerability, that brief glimpse into Dante’s past. Her initial observations of him had been purely fear-driven – a monster, a kidnapper, a ruthless overlord. But now, with the journal’s revelations and that unsettling moment of tenderness, she began to see layers. His obsession with her wasn’t just about revenge against Lorenzo, or even about punishing her for Isabella’s perceived sin. It was about something far more profound, something deeply personal. He wasn't just demanding her soul to inflict pain; he was demanding it to fill a void, to reclaim a piece of himself that had been torn away.

But I knew perfectly well that I can only ask so much. “I don't know…” I muttered timidly. “Because you enjoyed it. You want more, don't you, naughty Bella?” he growls, the bulge in his pants growing bigger as it slides between my butt cheeks. I remain silent, as my body feels torn between chaos and conundrum. “But as they say in these parts of Italy, "Paganini, don't repeat!” He turns me around, squeezes my ass, kneading and patting it again and walks me to the door.

Breakfast was filled with Vincenzo staring at me and me blushing every time I looked up at him. I also found out the reason the Italian Don is here. Apparently, the Russians have been stealing shipments from then. The Russians have always wanted power and money, so them stealing million dollor shipments would get them what they want. They start off stealing and then excalates to war, and that's why the Italians are here because they want to war. -----

"You're not thinking straight. This obsession is going to destroy everything we've built!" "My 'obsession' is keeping us alive!" Lorenzo shot back, his voice a low, dangerous growl. The Alpha dominance in it was real, and it made the hairs on my neck stand up. "Or have you forgotten who we're dealing with? Or are you too busy feeling sorry for yourself?"

Deny it all you want Zayla, he's dead handsome. "Are you also Italian?" The question was out of my mouth before I knew it. "Sì, amore." Yes, love. He let his accent slip, thick and flirty. The sound did something to my chest I refuse to acknowledge. "Why do you all hide your accent?" He leaned back, his smirk lazy. "Because Italians are already dreaded. We only use it only when it counts. On purpose." I narrowed my eyes, "Like what? Instilling fear? Ordering Pasta?"

She gave him a hard gaze, "In your dreams, Aleksandr. You asked me this before too and I also told you, you are my obsession. And I hate it the way it's making me look in front of my family. Everyone thinks I am in love with you!" He chuckled with amusing features. "And that's troubling you. Because now your family thinks you are in love with me." "Stop laughing." She gritted out. Aleksandr neared her face and nodded. "Do you know what obsession means, Tigritsa?" He asked her, his eyes gleamed as He spoke. "Obsession is when you have many beautiful ladies at your beck and call. Yet you are not interested in them. You only want the woman who refuses to let you come near her. Obsession is when