Obsession 2.5: Loving An Alpha Male Read online

  Obsession 2.5

  Loving An Alpha Male

  S.K. Lessly

  www.JessicaWatkinsPresents.com

  Copyright © 2019 by S.K. Lessly

  Published by Jessica Watkins Presents

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. Without limiting the right under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Jessica Watkins Presents

  Prologue

  I. The Shit Storm…

  Interlude One

  1. Kenya

  2. Misty

  Shane

  1. Shane

  Misty

  2. Josh

  3. Shane

  4. Misty

  5. Misty

  Shane

  6. Misty

  7. Josh

  8. Misty

  9. Misty

  10. Malcolm

  11. Shane

  12. Shane

  13. Misty

  Shane

  14. Misty

  15. Josh

  Emily

  Kenya

  16. Shane

  17. Misty

  18. Shane

  Kenya

  19. Kenya

  Misty

  20. Shane

  Emily

  21. Misty

  22. Shane

  23. Misty

  24. Josh

  Misty

  25. Misty

  26. Misty

  27. Misty

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  Epilogue 3

  The End

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  Prologue

  From Obsession Too:

  Kenya

  Switching tactics, I asked him, “How long have you known Dennis Simon?”

  “Who?” he responded quickly, smiling deviously at me.

  “Dennis Simon,” I repeated slowly this time.

  “Never heard of him,” he replied, sucking his teeth. He crossed his arms defiantly. What he couldn’t do was hide the surprise I saw in his eyes.

  I plowed on.

  “No? Oh, okay… I thought his name may sound familiar to you. After all, you two had similar tastes. What about Jerry Oswiler, Carlos Diego, or Ralph Constantine?”

  He continued to look bored as I mentioned a few of the other names from the list of members of ONW Bank; just what I wanted.

  “Nothing? Okay what about Emily Parsons?”

  That did it. I saw the recognition in his face instantly. He tried to play it off, but I saw it.

  “Yeah, she’s familiar, I see. In what way?”

  He didn’t reply, but he definitely looked uncomfortable.

  “You deposited a lot of money into her account over the years. Do you mind telling me why?” I asked.

  Again, he didn’t reply.

  I leaned forward and imitated his previous body posture, hands folded in front of me. “Look, your silence about what you know is only going to make things worse. I know more than what you think.”

  “You don’t know shit,” he replied finally, his voice dripping with terror and fear.

  I wasn’t sure if he was playing with me or if they were his true feelings.

  “Oh, I know plenty. I know about ONW, I know what it is, and I have an idea about what they do. I know about that hidden bank account you’ve been hiding from your family for years. I know you’ve been paying off this Emily person and a few other people.” I nodded my head. “Yup, I know you know who Emily is as well as Ralph, Jerry, and Carlos. And I definitely know you know a man by the name of Dante Perchenko. Why don’t you…”

  I stopped talking after I saw the look of pure terror overcome his entire body. His face went pale or a gray clay color, and I could see his chest start to rise and fall at an alarming rate.

  Noah sat up sharply. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea who…” Noah paused. He looked quickly up at the cameras that were mounted in the top corners of the walls to my left and right. He then looked at me and shook his head. “Woman, you’ve always been too smart for your damn good. Do you know that?” he asked, almost in a sad tone of voice before he looked at Davies. “You need to get her out of here and fast.”

  Just when I started to open my mouth to reply, all hell broke loose. First, an alarm started wailing violently throughout the building. I looked frantically up at Davies. I wasn’t sure what the alarms meant or what was happening. From Davies’ reaction, whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

  I saw Davies’ hard face grow harder, as if that was possible. He set his hard eyes on me and pointed a thick forefinger in my direction.

  “Stay in that seat.”

  He then moved to the door, tapped the back of his ear, and brought his wrist to his mouth. “Brody, what the fuck is going on?” Davies placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted. The door didn’t open. “Brody, do you copy?”

  “What’s going on, Davies?” I asked as I stood.

  Davies didn’t reply. He called to his wrist again. “Dammit! Somebody, answer me!”

  Even though I couldn’t hear any responses from whomever Davies was calling due to the earpiece in his ear, I knew he wasn’t getting a response. It was written all over his face.

  His concerned eyes met my growing frightened ones. Shit, this was bad.

  I reached for my phone at the same time Noah said, “God damn it, Davies! Get her out of here now! Before it’s too late.”

  Apparently, too late came early. Just before I could get out my phone to call Josh, gunfire rang in the distance and the lights went out. I screamed and instinctively backed away from the table, dropping my phone in the process. Shit…

  “What’s happening, Davies?” I asked him with hysterics in my voice. I knew it was futile trying to get down on my knees to look for my phone. For one, it would be hell to get up. For two, I couldn’t see past my nose in this room. Besides, I had bigger problems than finding my phone. Goodness, I hope he doesn’t find my phone. It would be disastrous.

  “Don’t be alarmed. Everything’s going to be fine. Just stay right behind me. I got you.”

  I couldn’t see anything, paralyzed wit
h fear, so how the hell did he expect me to stay behind him?

  Again, that small voice started yelling at me. This time, it was reminding me of how stupid I was for coming here in the first place.

  I reached all around me, suddenly remembering my bearings and started to feel for a wall or the table. I heard Noah’s chains shifting in the distance, but I wasn’t concerned until I felt cold metal being wrapped around my neck.

  “I’ve never seen a woman so smart be so stupid,” Noah whispered inches away from my ear. “You shouldn’t have come. But I’m glad you did. We have unfinished business, you and me. Don’t you think?” Noah kissed my ear and breathed in my hair.

  Oh God!

  I

  The Shit Storm…

  Interlude One

  Emily Parsons opened her car door, climbed inside, and slammed the door shut. She pushed the side button on her phone, awakening the screen and frowned. The signal on her phone was strong. She wasn’t roaming. A minute ago, however, her phone couldn’t buy a signal the whole time she was inside the market warehouse.

  Emily looked across the vast parking lot to the woman’s blue BMW SUV. Once her eyes fell on the familiar SUV, she sighed. “There it is,” she said to herself. However, confirming that the pregnant woman’s car still remained in the over-crowded parking lot didn’t make her feel any better. The confirmation meant that the woman was still inside.

  But, how could that be?

  She had walked all around the warehouse looking for Kenya and couldn’t find her. If the woman was there, Emily believed she would have seen her. Plus, it had been close to an hour now since Emily had parked and watched the woman walk inside the building. For the life of her, she couldn’t fathom why it was taking Kenya this long to pick out some damn fruit.

  And yet, it seemed she was doing just that.

  Emily surveyed the area, paying special attention to the smaller warehouses in the distance. Maybe she had missed her and she went shopping inside the other warehouses. After all, she was only watching the front of the building; she wasn’t watching the back. Kenya could easily be on foot right now. With that thought in mind, Emily was about to exit her car, when her phone started to vibrate, signaling an incoming call.

  She answered the call immediately, her voice curt and firm, “Sir?”

  There was silence on the other end before she heard the caller’s gruff Russian accent.

  “What is your status?” he asked.

  “Sir, I’m waiting for further instructions,” Emily reported. She didn’t want to seem anxious over the phone, despite the burning need to get this assignment started already. She felt exposed.

  “Have you found him?” Cupid asked and Emily sighed as quietly as she could.

  “Not exactly. I know where he lives and where he works. For some reason, I haven’t laid eyes on him yet.”

  Because I am afraid! That was how she wanted to end that sentence. She had come to that conclusion about an hour ago when just looking at his picture sparked fire inside her body. She was afraid to see Josh again. The connection they’d had years ago had been very strong. She knew she wasn’t over him and remembering how Josh was with her, he no doubt felt the same.

  “Do you know where she is at least?” Cupid asked. “Have you placed your eyes on her?”

  Emily hesitated and looked out of her windshield. “Yes, sir, I have.”

  “Good. That is good. Here is what I want you to do.”

  Emily pushed her chair back and looked up at the ceiling of her car as Cupid spoke.

  She could feel the excitement brewing in her veins as he laid out his plan. Finally, she would get to play.

  Once she received her instructions she smiled. “Sir, thank you for trusting in me. I will get started right away in your honor.”

  “Good girl,” Cupid praised. “I shall await your report.”

  Emily continued smiling long after Cupid had disconnected the call.

  Finally, she would be able to do what she’d come here to do. The problem for her was the plan he’d mapped out. It sucked. It wasn’t at all what she’d had in mind. It wasn’t his normal play in a situation of this magnitude. In her opinion, it lacked his legendary style and finesse. Maybe he was still in mourning and the loss of his nephew was causing him not to think straight. If that was the case, she needed to step in and do things the right way.

  Emily felt the twinge of excitement course through her veins. All she needed to do was think of a better way to execute Cupid’s plan that would provide him with the same results he wanted while at the same time, fulfill her desires too. Emily sat up in the driver’s seat of her car and elevated her seat back up. The decision was made. She would change his plan or better yet, she’d “upgrade” it. It was only right. But she needed help for damn sure. And she knew just the person to help. She searched her list of contacts in her phone and located a number she hadn’t used in quite some time.

  She hit send and waited for someone to pick up.

  “Hello? How my I direct your call?” the voice on the other end asked pleasantly.

  Emily, still smiling, said calmly, “Mr. William Casey, please.”

  There was a slight pause on the line, which was what she’d expected. After all, she had just dropped a code that was only to be used whenever an undercover agent needed an emergency extraction. The once pleasant, now strained, voice replied hesitantly this time, “Hold please. I’ll direct your call.”

  Deciding the deep surveillance on the pregnant woman was no longer needed, Emily started up the car. She pulled out of the parking space and followed the route that would lead her to CIA Headquarters.

  “State your reason for this call,” a gruff male voice replied coolly.

  Emily’s smile broadened even further. The rush of adrenaline began to surge all through her. “This is CIA agent, Emily Parsons, operator number Tango-Foxtrot-Zero-Nine-Six-Five-Zero.”

  “Hold while I verify.”

  Emily held her phone to her ear as she maneuvered, one-handed, through lunch time traffic.

  The voice came back on the line. “Identity verified, Agent Parsons. Hold for the Deputy Director.”

  Emily heard a series of clicks before another disgruntled voice came on the line.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” questioned the deputy director of the Central Intelligence Agency.

  “I’m coming in,” Emily responded calmly.

  “Where are you?” the man asked equally as calm.

  She had hoped for a bit more drama when she made this call. After all, it’d been a few years since she’d tried to kill the director of the CIA. She had hoped for more of a grudge from her old family.

  “It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m coming in.”

  “Okay,” the man dragged out. “That’s fantastic. I’ll have some people meet you in the lobby and escort you upstairs.”

  Emily laughed knowing that meant she wouldn’t make it within fifteen yards of the building. She could feel the bullseye forming on her forehead as she drove. She knew the agency would have no problem taking her out in public. She’d done it countless times for the greater good of the country with witnesses around and still got away clean.

  Emily also knew that the DDCI, deputy director of central intelligence, wasn’t the only person listening to the call. Guaranteed, this call was being monitored, recorded by the think tank in the agency for plausible deniability later. Also, knowing the DDCI, he had called a few key players inside his office for this call. She was on display for all to hear.

  “That would be great. Thank you. I’m touched and honored,” she replied sarcastically. “I hope you’ll be there to greet me. We have lots to discuss.”

  “Oh? What is it that we have to discuss? Your complete lack of loyalty?”

  “Oh, that and the first-hand knowledge I have on the whereabouts of one, Dante Perchenko. I also have information on the great CIA legend, Diane Deonatti, and what she was into throughout her tenure with the agency. I have to say, look
ing at her files, she actually makes me look like a saint. I think you would be very interested in what I have and I would be happy to share that information with you, instead of the press.”

  There was a longer pause this time before she heard a response.

  “What kind of information do you have exactly?”

  Emily laughed again. “Oh, please, Santini, let’s stop playing games here. I know you are specifically looking into what Diane was into and I know you have been wanting to get your hands on Perchenko for years. I’m telling you that I can fill in the gaps and help get him for you.”

  “At what cost?” Santini asked.

  “At the only cost that matters—my life. Trust me. I think this deal sounds better than the latter.”

  Santini grunted. “Yeah, tell that to the director.”

  “Seriously, that old fart will get over it once the world knows that the CIA singlehandedly brought in the most wanted terrorist in the world.” Emily allowed the silence to sink in before she added, “You know I’m telling the truth.”

  “And if we don’t bring you in and accept your help?” Santini asked after a brief pause.