Page 30 of Chains of Obsession

“I already do and you’ll thank me for it.” I reply, my lips ghosting over hers.

Before she can respond, I claim her mouth in a kiss that’s demanding and pouring all my obsession, my need, my twisted love into it. She resists at first, her hands pushing against my chest, but then she melts into me, her surrender only fueling the fire burning inside me. When we finally pull apart, both of us breathless, I rest my forehead against hers, my hands gripping her hips.

“This is just the beginning, Amelia. You’ll see. You’ll understand.”

Her silence speaks volumes, but I don’t need her words. Not yet. Because I know, deep down, she feels it too—the inevitability of us, of what we’re destined to build together and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen. Even if it means breaking her resistance piece by piece.

Chapter ten

Freedom and Surrender

Amelia

Istand by thewindow, my fingers resting lightly on the cool glass as I look out over the estate. The garden has been transformed, reborn from the ashes of its destruction. The roses are back, their vivid reds and whites, a contrast to the freshly laid stone paths winding through the lush greenery. A brand new gazebo in the middle of the garden, gives me a special place to relax when I want to be away from everything and everyone.

The east wing, too, has been rebuilt, its architecture even grander than before, as if Matteo needed to prove to the world—and perhaps to himself—that nothing and no one could truly touch him. The view is breathtaking, but it doesn’t ease the storm inside me.

It’s a façade, just like everything else in Matteo’s world. Beneath the surface, beneath the beauty and order, there’s still the chaos, the darkness that lingers like a shadow. But now, I’mpart of it. The thought unsettles me and exhilarates me in equal measure. I sit in the sunlit corner of Matteo’s office, the morning light casting golden hues across the room. His words from last night echoes in my mind, heavy with a weight I’m not sure I’m ready to carry.

“You have a choice, Amelia. Freedom or us. But if you stay, you stay knowing everything, accepting everything. There’s no turning back.”

Freedom. The word feels foreign now, hollow. What would freedom even mean for me at this point? A life without Matteo, without this world of power and danger and fire? The thought should bring me relief, but instead, it leaves a void, an emptiness I can’t ignore.

I glance at the papers again—contracts, agreements, blueprints of the future Matteo is building. Our future. Whether I want to admit it or not, I’ve become part of this world, a partner in his darkness.

The door opens, and I look up to see Matteo stepping inside, his presence filling the room like a storm rolling in. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away.

“You’re up early,” he says, his voice a low rumble.

“I couldn’t sleep. There’s too much to think about.” I reply, my gaze drifting back to the papers.

He moves to stand beside me, his hand brushing against mine as he picks up one of the contracts.

“That’s what happens when you build something worth protecting.”

I can’t help but scoff. “Is that what this is? Protection? Or just control?”

His eyes darken, but there’s a flicker of something else there—vulnerability, maybe. “It’s both. Always both.”

I don’t respond, letting the silence stretch between us. Finally, he speaks again, his tone softer. “The garden looks beautiful, doesn’t it?”

I nod. “It does. But it’s not the same.”

“No,” he agrees, his gaze distant. “It’s stronger. More resilient. Just like us.”

I turn to look at him, the weight of his words sinking in. He’s not just talking about the garden or the estate. He’s talking about us, about what we’ve become.

“Is that what you want? To make me stronger, more resilient?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

His hand cups my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I want you to be unbreakable, Amelia. I want you to be everything this world fears and respects.”

The intensity of his words sends a shiver through me, but I don’t look away. “What about what I want?”

His lips curve into a small, dark smile. “You already have it. You just don’t want to admit it yet.”

I hate that he’s right. Hate that I feel more alive in this darkness than I ever did in the light.

“Why offer me my freedom?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

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