Page 65 of Sinful Obsession
My heart racing as I stole a file about my mother’s secrets from mafia men, their footsteps pounding behind me.
A club, neon lights pulsing.
Running into a stranger—Cassian—kissing him desperately to throw off my pursuers, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that felt like fate.
I thrashed, my head whipping side to side, nails digging into my palms until blood dripped, hot and slick.
The pain was unbearable, my body shaking violently, sweat soaking my clothes as memories piled on—meeting Luca, my intended fiancé, only to find Cassian’s shadow everywhere; Cassian kidnapping Luca on our wedding day, standing at the altar in his place, his vows a chain around my heart.
The flood slowed, the fragments settling chronologically, a completed tapestry of my life.
When it stopped, I was slumped in the seat, gasping, my palms bleeding, my body drenched in sweat.
I was reborn, my memories whole, sharp, and devastating.
I remembered everything.
I remembered being married to Cassian—his touch, his anger, the darkness that had haunted every room we shared. I remembered the punishments, the torment that had carved itself into my body and soul.
I remembered leaving him, thinking I could escape. And then... the nightmare of being taken by my own father. The cold, sterile walls of the psych ward. The drugs. The isolation. The sense of being erased, piece by piece, until I hardly recognized myself.
All of it came back in a torrent, leaving me breathless, trembling, and desperate for air.
Ethan’s eyes never left me, unreadable and calculating. “You wanted to know who I work for?” he asked, breaking the heavy silence that had settled between us. I couldn’t respond; the memories still throbbed in my mind like a fresh wound.
“I work for no one,” he continued, his voice low, almost a growl. “I’m too valuable, too... expensive to be anyone’s pawn. I have wealth, power, influence—everything. But two years ago, my father... he took my daughter from her mother to control me.”
I froze, my heart skipping a beat.
“The reason I didn’t fight for custody,” he said, his jaw tight. "Wasn't because I didn’t care. It was because my enemies could use her against me. I had to pretend that I didn’t care, that I was absent from her life, while all the while protecting her from the shadows. Who would have guessed that the one person who knows she exists... my father... would actually come after her to manipulate me? He needed me to obey him. Our relationshipisn’t good. He knew I’d refuse if he asked outright, so he forced my hand.”
He paused, letting the words sink in, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and calculation. “Everything I did... every choice I made, even the ones you saw as betrayal—it was all about survival. And keeping her safe, even if it meant living as a ghost in my own life.”
“My father heads the Bellucci Clan in Chicago. We’re the most dangerous because we don’t make noise. We strike from the shadows, let others take the fall. Your mother was sold to us by your father before he died. He called her a slut, said she was sleeping with Cassian’s father, the Moretti head. We paid for her, but the Morettis protected her, so we couldn’t claim her.”
My breath caught, memories of my mother—her soft voice, her hidden pain—clashing with his words.
“Cassian killed his father,” Ethan continued, “weakening the Morettis. We took your mother then, our rightful property. Years later, Cassian saved her, anonymously, thinking we’d never know. We did. And we wanted revenge.”
“That’s why you... killed his sister?” I finally asked, my voice trembling. My chest ached as I remembered fleeting fragments—Elodie coming home for the holidays, her gentle hands freeing me from the chains and leash Cassian had forced on me the day before. She led me to the table tennis court, offered me an escape, her kindness a brief, shining moment in the darkness.
Her death hurt now, in a way that made my heart feel like it had been ripped in two. God, I’d never see her again. According to Cassian, she had died trying to save me.
Ethan remained silent, his expression unreadable.
“She... she wasn’t bitten by a snake, was she?” I asked, tears slipping down my cheeks despite my best effort to stop them. “You killed her.”
He swallowed hard, his jaw tight. “My father had my daughter taken because he wanted me to carry out his command—a revenge on Cassian for taking your mother, who was rightfully ours, without any legal process. He could have handled it differently. Could have bought her back, and maybe we would’ve considered it. But no... he chose the wrong route.”
“I did everything I did for my daughter,” he continued, his voice tight with controlled anger. “If I refused, my father would have hurt her. I couldn’t let that happen.”
I clenched my fists, my voice trembling with rage. “So answer my damn question. Don’t be a coward. You... you killed Elodie?”
He looked away, his silence a confession. “I couldn’t shoot her,” he said finally, his voice low. “So I placed a viper where she’d wait for me. She was bitten, collapsed in the woods, clutching her leg as the venom burned through her. She screamed, Charlotte, alone, with no one to help. Her last moments were agony.”
The image tore through me—Elodie, clutching her leg as the venom coursed through her, falling to the floor, crying in pain, screaming for help that never came. The cold, empty space around her, the helplessness, the fear... it tore at my soul. My stomach churned and my hands trembled. God, the thought hurt more than I could bear.
My chest heaved, sobs ripping from my throat. “God, why?” I whispered, the pain of her loss a knife in my heart. “She was innocent, Ethan. She helped me. She was kind.”
