Page 122 of Reckless Obsession

That is the problem.

“Where is he?” I ask again.

Alex goes quiet.

I drag a hand through my hair and force myself to breathe through the frustration rising in my chest.

“I’m not going to force him to see me,” I add, quieter now. “I just need to see for myself that he is alright.”

The silence stretches.

Then Alex finally answers.

“He’s at the Armani Grand.”

My eyes open.

“The hotel?”

“Yes.”

Relief floods through me so suddenly it is almost dizzying. At least he is somewhere predictable and guarded, somewhere safe enough for me to reach him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Tristan.”

His voice has changed and gone colder.

I wait.

“I don’t know what the hell is happening between you and Maksim,” Alex continues. “I’m not going to pretend that I do, and I’m not going to ask you to explain yourself to me.”

I say nothing.

“But I know my brother.” His voice drops. “I know he has spent years learning to survive people who wanted things from him without ever truly wanting him. If you are another version of that, Tristan, walk away now. Cleanly. Before this gets worse for him.”

The words land exactly where he intends them to.

I do not interrupt.

“And trust me,” Alex adds, every syllable measured, “if this gets worse for him because of you, I will come for you.”

There is no raised voice. No drama.

That makes it worse.

“I do not care what leverage you have, who protects you, or how many people you can put between us,” he goes on. “I will skin you alive and feed what remains to the vultures.”

For a moment, I almost smile.

Alex Petrov does not make empty threats, and everyone who knows him understands that. I have built a life around men as dangerous as him, perhaps more dangerous, and threats themselves have never frightened me.

But this is not really about fear.

It is a boundary, drawn around someone Alex loves.

And I respect it.