Lahat ng Kabanata ng His Enemy, His Obsession: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

RONAN“I need you to focus, Ron. This isn't one of your little social experiments.”I press the phone to my ear, wincing as the bass from Club Ombra vibrates through the sidewalk and straight into my optic nerve. My mother’s voice is like a serrated blade—cold, sharp, and precise.“Tess, please,” I mutter, leaning against the cold metal of my Porsche. “The night is young, and my head is currently being used as a structural drum for a construction crew. Can we do this later?”“We do this now,” Theresa Nalila snaps. There is no warmth in her tone, only the weight of the Crimson Dragons’ legacy. “The Castellanos are breathing down my neck about the New York shipments. They think you’re too busy playing host to notice the leak in our finances.”I pop the cap of my pill bottle with one hand, shaking out two white tablets. My vision swims for a second—a jagged halo of purple neon framing the entrance to the club. “I have everything under control. The ‘leak’ is being tracked. I’m a captain,

Lydia “LIL” Moretti’s eyes bore into mine through the vanity mirror, her reflection sharp and uncompromising. I carefully capped my obsidian lipstick, the shade matching the dark, utilitarian elegance I cultivated for tonight.“It’s a high-stakes play, Zli,” LIL said, her voice dropping into that authoritative gravel that made even the Director of the FBI sit up straighter. “If the Crimson Dragons catch a whiff of a Camelot accountant in Club Ombra, they won’t just kill you. They’ll make it a message for the entire task force.”I checked the weight of the tungsten ring hanging from the chain beneath my shirt—my sister Gina’s ring, the only thing they’d returned of hers. “Coming from the woman who once infiltrated a Neapolitan dock strike with nothing but a wire and a prayer? I’d introduce you to my friend Hypocrisy, but I’m pretty sure she’s already on your speed dial.”LIL let out a dry, short huff, crossing her tailored arms over her chest. She looked every bit the mentor who had dr

We clash in the middle of the room. I rush toward him as he takes a defensive stance, his eyes tracking my every twitch. What he doesn’t realize is that this frantic assault is a distraction. I throw out a series of punches and kicks, sharp and calculated, designed to make him exert himself and cloud his judgment. As he lunges forward with a groan of effort to restrain me, I’m already ducking.I dive into a smooth tactical roll across the hardwood, my fingers grazing the floor until they wrap around the handle of my discarded ceramic blade. I come out of the roll in one fluid motion, taking a lethal slash at him. Ron dodges, but I’m a shadow, swiping at him again as we lock into a new, violent dance."You’re really trying to kill me, aren't you, Zli?" he asks, his breathing heavy and ragged. He leaps out of the way of the blade just as the tip whistles past his throat. "I’m beginning to think this is more than just a disagreement over the bill. You actually want me dead.""What was yo

“Bruises,” he repeats, cutting me a suspicious sidelong glance as we stand in the narrow, wood-paneled elevator of our Brooklyn brownstone. “What bruises, Zli?”I press the ground-floor button and stare at the digitized numbers as they climb. “Not sure. I think your girlfriend is seeing things.”“Phoebe doesn’t just ‘see things.’ She’s a forensic analyst. She sees details,” Callum counters.“Then she’s seeing a shadow. It’s unnecessary.”The elevator doors hiss open, and I step out into the lobby, once again ignoring the pointed look Callum gives me. He falls into a dissatisfied silence for the rest of the walk. The Brooklyn air is crisp, carrying the scent of salt from the East River and the distant, metallic roar of the city.Any attempt to censor himself ends by the time we’re two blocks over, heading toward the subway entrance.“You fought one of them, didn’t you?” he accuses, his voice low but sharp.“Keep your voice down. We’re supposed to be invisible, remember?” I mutter back,

Phoebe’s arms clamp around me like a vice, nearly squeezing the air out of my lungs. I stiffen out of instinct. Public affection has never been my thing—and Phoebe knows that—but she’s always been a softie when we’re about to head out on another high-stakes operation.“Dammit, Clarke,” I groan as my ribs scream in protest. I’m still tender from my desperate grapple with Ron at Club Ombra the other night. “Are you trying to hug me or put me in the hospital? I need to be able to breathe to decrypt the Dragons' servers.”“Just checking if anything’s broken,” she teases, releasing me. Her eyes, sharp and analytical, scan my face. “And maybe reminding you that you’re a forensic accountant, Zli, not a field assassin. You’re not made of steel, even if you act like it.”“Or maybe you act like you’re made of cotton candy. Toughen up.” I smack my palm to her shoulder, my version of revenge for her viselike bear hug.She pounds her own chest with a grin. “Oh please, me? I’m the one who pulls the