Page 16 of Chains of Obsession

I pour myself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass like the storm in my head. The fire burns as it slides down my throat, but it doesn’t drown the restless energy coursing through me. She doesn’t understand the world she’s in. She doesn’t see the predators lurking in the shadows, waiting for a chance to pounce. I’d burn the entire city to the ground before I let anyone hurt her. But how do I protect her from a truth that could shatter her? A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. Nico steps in, his face unreadable as he closes the door behind him.

“Is it done?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says. “The files are gone.”

“And Luca?”

“Still quiet. For now. But Matteo... he’s not stupid. He’ll know we’re watching him.”

“Good,” I reply, my voice cold. “Let him squirm.”

Nico nods but doesn’t leave. He lingers, his gaze heavy.

“What?” I snap.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” he asks, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

“What about her?”

“She’s getting to you.”

The accusation is so absurd I almost laugh. Almost. “You’re mistaken.”

He tilts his head, unconvinced. “You’ve never been one to ignore an advantage, Matteo. But with her, you’re not thinking clearly.”

I slam the glass down on the desk, the sharp sound cutting through the room. “I don’t need your advice on how to handle my wife.”

He doesn’t flinch, which only irritates me more. “Just be careful,” he says before turning to leave.

As the door clicks shut, I exhale slowly, trying to rein in the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Nico’s wrong. Amelia isn’t a weakness. She’s confusing, yes, but I’ll manage. Still, his words linger, unwelcome and unsettling.

After a few hours pass, I find myself outside our room. The hall is quiet, the mansion wrapped in an unnatural stillness that mirrors the storm in my chest. I don’t knock. I don’t announce myself. I simply open the door and step inside. She’s sitting by the window, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. She doesn’t turn to look at me, but I know she’s aware of my presence.

“What do you want, Matteo?” she asks, her voice tired but sharp.

I close the door behind me. “I wanted to see you.”

Her laugh is bitter, her shoulders stiffening. “What’s so special about tonight?”

I move closer, stopping just behind her. The tension between us is a living thing, thrumming in the air like an unspoken challenge.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for demanding you to come in here.” I say.

“I’m tired of fighting,” she replies, though there’s no conviction in her tone.

I place my hands on her shoulders, leaning down until my lips are near her ear. “You don’t strike me as the type to give up.”

She turns her head slightly, her eyes locking with mine. There’s defiance there, as always, but something else too. Something raw and vulnerable.

“Maybe I’m tired of you,” she says, though her voice wavers.

My lips twitch into a smirk. “Liar.”

Her breath catches, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. She hates how well I know her, just as much as I hate how deeply she’s managed to burrow under my skin.

I move to stand in front of her, crouching down so we’re eye level. “Tell me the truth, Amelia. What are you so afraid of?”

She glares at me, her jaw tightening. “I’m not afraid of you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

---