Page 61 of Lord of the Dark

"Honestly?" I met her gaze, my voice steady but final. "Carter is a joke compared to him."

Rachel blinked. Said nothing.

"When I'm with him, I feel... nothing. Not anymore. Not really. I can sit beside him in a perfect restaurant, with candlelight and polite small talk—and the only thing on my mind is Russo. His scent. His voice. The way his damn gaze strips me bare without him even touching me."

I let out a dry laugh, dropping my eyes for a moment. "Carter is nice. Sweet. Routine. But Russo... is everything I shouldn't want, and exactly what I do. I want that darkness. That control. I want him, even if it destroys me."

Rachel's eyes widened with a flicker of horror. She picked up her fork again, pushing at the remains of her salad. But her gaze avoided mine. She was trying to mask her real thoughts.

"Well... maybe it's just attraction, you know? That kind of thing can be deceptive. Especially when it's so... physically intense." Her tone was forcibly light, but a fine crack ran through every word.

I watched her quietly. The way she speared a piece of avocado despite having no appetite left. The way she tried not to show the alarm bells ringing inside her.

"He's just the complete opposite of Carter," she murmured. "Of course that fascinates you. But that doesn't mean—"

"Rachel." My voice cut through her defense. "I know what you're thinking. You don't have to say it."

She stopped. Looked at me. And there it was—an expression caught between concern and disbelief. This time, she didn't look away.

"Actually, Fiona. I need to say it." She set down her fork, crossed her arms. "This doesn’t sound like some little adventure or physical attraction anymore. This sounds like you’re completely losing your mind."

I stayed silent, letting her speak.

"You talk about him like you’re his creation—like he molded you to his liking, and you’re even grateful for it! Do you even hear yourself?" Rachel’s voice trembled with anger. "That’s not romantic, Fiona. That’s sick. That guy is dangerous. And you? You sound like you can’t even breathe without him. Are you seriously trying to tell me that’s love?"

"Love?" I laughed without warmth. "If it were love, I could walk away right now. I would’ve ended it, forgotten him, moved on. But this?" My gaze hardened. "This is something else. Something that’s burrowed deep inside me. And no, I don’t know what it is. But I know I can’t escape it—and that I don’t even want to."

Rachel dragged a frustrated hand through her hair. "Damn it, Fiona! This isn’t you. You’ve always been the strong one. You had everything under control—your career, your life, your choices. Where’s that resilience I admired so much? You’re sitting here talking like it’s okay to surrender yourself to someone who’s destroying you."

"That’s very dramatic. I feel stronger in his presence, too. More confident." I leaned back, feeling the erratic thud of my pulse. "But yes, maybe I need to break first to know who I really am."

Rachel stared at me, stunned. "That’s not strength, Fiona. That’s self-destruction."

As if on cue, Rachel’s expression shifted into a mix of shock and awe. But also fury.

Conversations around us died, replaced by a strange murmur spreading through the guests. I noticed people turning, their gazes locked on a point behind me. It was like someone had flipped a switch.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Speak of the devil..." Rachel tilted her chin slightly behind me.

A shadow fell over our table—long and ominous—and in that moment, I knew only one person could command that kind of presence.

Slowly, I lifted my head, following the shadow.

Alessandro stood there, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his tailored black suit. The dark sunglasses made him seem almost otherworldly—like a GQ cover model come to life.

God, he looked hot.

Instantly, the sight of him sent heatwaves racing down my spine, and the deepest muscles inside me twitched in eager acknowledgment—as if they, too, had sensed his presence.

"Fiona," he said, with an urgency that brooked no refusal, "might I steal you for a moment?"

How polite.

"Lovely to see you so... unexpectedly, Alexander. I’m here with Rachel, as you can see," I replied, as composed as possible. "You’re welcome to join us."

He offered Rachel a polite, almost mechanical smile before turning back to me. The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

---