Page 4 of Chains of Obsession

“You’re insane if you think I’m going along with this. I don’t belong to anyone.”

I take a slow step toward her, then another, until I’m towering over her defiant frame. “You will,” I say, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

Her eyes flicker with fear, but she doesn’t back down. “You think I’m safer with you?”

“Yes,” I say simply.

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, we’re locked in a silent standoff, the air between us crackling with tension. I turn on my heels and walk away, the sound of her ragged breathing following me. My chest tightens, the weight of my obsession settling deeper. I may have won this round, but the war with Amelia is far from over. God help me, I’m looking forward to it. Her scent lingers in the air behind me—jasmine and vanilla.

As I leave her standing in that room, I know I should feel satisfied. I’ve claimed victory in this round of our game, but the hollow satisfaction only feeds the gnawing hunger inside me. She doesn’t realize that every time she defies me, every time shelooks at me with that blazing fury in her eyes, she’s tightening the threads of her own captivity.

In the quiet sanctum of my office, I light a cigarette, the flick of the flame breaking the silence. The smoke curls around me, thick and pungent, like the weight of the decisions I’ve made.

A stack of papers sits on my desk, the foundation of her new life. A life tied irrevocably to me. The marriage contract is almost poetic in its simplicity. She’ll have the Moretti name, the protection of my empire. In return, she’ll be my queen, my leverage, and my undoing all at once. I glance at the clock. The night is still young, and there’s work to be done.

I press a button on my desk phone, summoning Rocco and Enzo. Men that I trust whole heartedly. Within minutes, they appear, both men dressed in dark suits, their faces carved from stone.

“Sit,” I order, gesturing to the chairs across from me.

Rocco leans back, his bulk body making the chair groan in protest, while Enzo sits on the edge, always poised for action.

“The Ricci girl will sign the contract. But I want every detail of this union to send a message. The wedding will be public, grand, and impossible for anyone in our world to ignore.”

Rocco smirks, his teeth flashing beneath his thick beard. “You want to make a statement.”

“I want to makethestatement. A Ricci and a Moretti united under my terms. No one questions my power after this.”

Enzo nods, his sharp eyes glinting with understanding. “What about Luca?”

“He begged for my help, and now he owes me everything. But make no mistake, this isn’t about him. It’s about her.”

The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of my words settling over us. I know what they’re thinking, even if they don’t say it. Amelia Ricci is a liability, a spark in a powder keg I’ve spent years carefully constructing. But they don’t see what I see.

“She’s more than leverage. She’s fire. And fire can be controlled if you know how to wield it.”

Rocco chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re playing a dangerous game, boss.”

“Danger is where I thrive, and she’ll learn that resistance is futile. She’s mine now. End of story.” I snap, my tone sharper than intended.

Enzo clears his throat, his gaze flicking to the contract. “And the terms? She won’t come willingly.”

“She doesn’t have to. She’ll sign, or she’ll watch what happens when someone crosses me. Either way, she’ll stand by my side at the altar. I want extra security on her at all times. No slip-ups, no gaps. She breathes because I allow it, and I won’t let anyone interfere with what’s mine.”

Rocco and Enzo nod, their loyalty unwavering. They know better than to question me, especially when it comes to Amelia. As they leave, the room grows quiet once more. I stand, moving to the window that overlooks the city. The lights stretch out before me, a sprawling kingdom built on blood and sacrifice.

She doesn’t see it yet, but Amelia belongs here. She belongs to me. Together, we’ll solidify this empire, carve out a legacy that no one can touch. But first, I’ll have to break her. The thought sends a dark thrill through me, the kind that I’ve always tried to suppress but can’t seem to resist where she’s concerned. She’ll fight me, resist me at every turn, and I’ll savor every second of it.

Because when she finally surrenders, it won’t be out of fear. It will be out of something far more dangerous. In that surrender, she’ll become exactly what I need: my queen, my obsession, my undoing. With a slow exhale, I crush the cigarette in the ashtray, the embers dying out with a hiss. The game is in motion now, the pieces falling into place. No matter how much fire Amelia Ricci brings to the board, I’ll make sure I’m the one left standing when it’s all over.

It’s been twenty-four hours since I kidnapped Amelia. She stands at the far end of the room, her back straight, her eyes blazing with defiance. Even from here, I can feel the heat radiating off her—the fury, the hatred. She isn’t just a woman scorned, she’s a woman ready to go to war, and for a brief moment, I can’t help but admire her. She doesn’t belong in my world, not really. She’s fire, and I’m the kind of man who thrives in the cold. But here she is, staring me down as if her anger alone will undo everything I’ve set in motion.

“Sign the contract,” I say, my voice calm, measured. It’s the voice of a man who knows he’s already won.

She laughs—a sharp, bitter sound that cuts through the heavy silence. “You must think I’m a fool. You think I’d willingly tie myself to the man whose family destroyed mine?”

The accusation lands, as it always does. I don’t flinch. I don’t defend myself. What would be the point? The Moretti name carries blood, power, and history. None of it clean.

“Think what you want. But this isn’t about what you want, Amelia. It’s about what you need.” I say, leaning back in my chair. I rest my hands on the arms, my fingers drumming lightly against the leather.

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