Page 69 of Cruel Obsession

In my business, loose ends get tied up. Permanently.

That’s my life. That’s my world.

And I just dragged her into it.

But when she curls against my side tentatively, her head resting on my chest, something shifts inside me. Something I don’t want to acknowledge. Her breathing evens out, soft and steady against my skin. Trusting.

Stupid girl.

Doesn’t she know monsters don’t have hearts?

Doesn’t she know men like me destroy everything we touch?

I should push her away. Should end this now before it gets complicated. Before she becomes a target. Before my enemies figure out that she matters.

Because in my world, anything that matters is a weapon. A vulnerability. A way to break me.

I’m going down an unexpected path, and I’m certain I’m going to regret it.

But for now, I close my eyes and let myself pretend. Just for a moment. That I’m not the man who killed his brother. Who’s sent dozens of men to their graves. Who runs an empire built on fear and violence.

For now, I’m just a man with a woman in his bed.

Tomorrow, I’ll go back to being a monster.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Mirabel

I lie tangled in Arkady’s sheets, my skin still burning from his touch.

The imprints of his fingers mark my hips, tender reminders of how he held me down. My inner thighs ache pleasantly, muscles protesting against how hard he used me.

The scent of sex and sweat hangs heavy between us, mingling with his animal pheromones that make my body respond even when my mind knows better.

His weight shifts beside me. He traces patterns on my bare shoulder, each touch sending aftershocks through nerve endings already raw from stimulation. I steal a glance at him and nearly forget to breathe.

His face is different now—the hard angles of his jaw relaxed, those ice-blue eyes warmed to something almost tender. The feathered tattoos across his throat and chest rise and fall with each calm, deep breath, the black ink stark against his sun-bronzed skin.

I’ve never seen him like this before. Unguarded.

“I knew this was going to happen,” Arkady murmurs, his accent thicker in this private space, vowels elongated in a way that makes my stomach clench. “Even before I said ‘I don’t’ at the wedding.”

The confession jolts me. I turn to face him, propping myself up on one elbow, the sheet falling away to expose my breasts. His eyes flick down, darkening with renewed hunger.

“Why did you say no?”

His fingers draw invisible lines across my collarbone, then lower, circling my nipple without quite touching it. A deliberate tease.

“That wedding was never meant to be.” A smile flickers at the corner of his mouth. “And then, I got a look at your tits in that dress.”

I swat his hand away, but laughter bubbles up despite myself. “I was trying to be invisible. Hard to do when your dress splits apart mid-ceremony.”

“That tear saved me from making the worst mistake of my life.” His thumb finally brushes across my nipple, sending a jolt straight to my pussy. “Though watching you scramble to hold it together was… distracting.”

“I was mortified,” I admit, remembering the way the fabric had given way, how I’d clutched the pieces together while dozens of cold eyes had turned to stare. “Erica tried to warn me it was too tight across the back.”

“I’m glad you ignored her.” His palm settles warm against my ribs, so large it nearly spans my torso. The size difference between us hits me anew—how easily he could hurt me if he wanted to.