Page 21 of Sinful Obsession
They were testing me. Pushing to see how far they could go.
If I cracked, they’d pounce.
I stood tall, my jaw set, my eyes burning into theirs. “You think a wet bed will break me?” I said, my voice unyielding. “I’ve faced worse than you, and I’m still standing. Try harder.”
Their smirks faltered for a moment, surprise flickering in their eyes, but I didn’t wait for a response.
I turned to the fourth roommate, his dark eyes still watching, assessing.
He hadn’t spoken beyond answering my question, but his silence felt different—not hostile, but guarded.
If I was to survive Silas and Sebastian, to outlast Cassian’s wrath, I needed him on my side.
In the House of Devils, allies were shields, and I was exposed, caught between my roommates’ cruelty and a boss who knew my name, my past, and a crime I couldn’t remember committing.
The competition had begun, and I was already running out of time.
Chapter 3
CHARLOTTE
Four weeks of brutal combat conditioning had come and gone. A crucible of pain and power.
There were sparring sessions where I was thrown against heirs twice my size—sons of crime lords with fists like hammers and no mercy.
Weapons training was worse. Hours spent wielding knives and batons until my hands blistered raw. I fumbled once and sliced a deep line across my own palm.
By the third week, I nearly broke. Sobbing quietly in the DEN’s shadows, swallowing the sound so no one would hear.
Four relentless weeks of bloodied knuckles, bone-deep exhaustion, and psychological warfare meant to shatter even the strongest.
But I endured. Clawed my way through.
Fueled by the thought of my grandfather’s legacy and the need to prove my father wrong.
I was still standing—barely. Barely sane.
There were thirty-eight of us left.
Out of forty. Two had died in the first week.
We had ten more months to go. The end would come in November. Today was January 29th.
According to the bosses, combat conditioning was just the prelude. The real contest—the one that would crown the survivor—began in less than an hour.
I’d like to say I was ready. That the agony had forged me into something steel and unshakable.
But that would be a lie.
I was nervous. On edge. Even after everything, I didn’t know what was coming. And that terrified me.
I walked in silence beside the only person I trusted here—King. My fourth roommate. He was rough around the edges, slow to warm up, but eventually, he let me in.
Mostly because I refused to give up.
We’d made a quiet vow to protect each other. From our two psychopath teammates—Silas and Sebastian.
They’d kill us if given the chance.
