Page 68 of Sinful Obsession
My fear spiked, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin. No. It couldn’t be. But as he turned, his face came into view—sharp jaw, piercing eyes, the scar on his cheek a familiar mark.
Cassian. God, how had he found me? The tracker bracelet on my wrist burned like a brand, a stupid oversight I’d forgotten in my panic.
He’d tracked me across the sea, his obsession a chain I couldn’t break.
Before I could process, another chopper roared in, landing beside the first.
Two men hauled out a body, limp and lifeless, dumping it unceremoniously on the deck. My heart jerked as recognition hit—Ethan, his face pale, a clean bullet wound in his forehead, blood trickling down like a tear.
I ran to him, dropping to my knees, agony ripping through me. “Ethan,” I whispered, tears flooding my eyes as I touched his cold cheek.
Sobs tore from my throat, uncontrollable, my body shaking with the weight of it all. He’d been a monster, yes, but he’d also been the boy I’d protected, the man who’d spared me worse horrors for his daughter’s sake.
I turned to Cassian, my voice breaking through the tears. “Why would you kill him?”
Cassian’s eyes were ice, his voice a low growl. “He took you from me twice. Killed my sister. Stole three years of your life and turned it into hell. Why the fuck are you crying over that bastard?”
“Do you know how powerful his family is?” I pleaded, my voice trembling, wiping tears from my face. “The Bellucci Clan—they’ll come for you.”
“Let me handle that,” he said, his tone dismissive, dangerous. “Get into the chopper.”
I stayed kneeling by Ethan, childhood memories crashing over me—pushing bullies away from him in school, sharing lunches when he had none, his grateful smiles that hid the darkness he’d become.
Pain twisted in my chest, not overwhelming grief, but a sharp hurt for the boy he’d been.
He’d done it all for his daughter, but that didn’t excuse the torture, the lies, the violation.
Still, seeing him lifeless, eyes staring blankly at the sky, broke something in me. “I’m sorry, Ethan,” I whispered, reaching out to close his wide-open eyes, my fingers lingering on his cold skin.
I stood, stepping away, walking toward Cassian with a mix of resignation and defiance.
“So what will you do to me?” I asked, bracing for the worst, expecting chains, pain, his infamous punishments. “For escaping?”
Cassian’s gaze darkened, his voice a velvet threat. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk again.” He paused, his eyes raking over me. “Now get in the chopper.”
I exhaled sharply, swallowing the fear rising in my throat.
There was nothing I could do—outnumbered, outpowered—so I obeyed, climbing into the chopper.
Cassian followed, sliding in beside me, his presence a wall of heat and tension.
The blades roared to life, lifting us into the sky, the yacht shrinking below like a discarded toy.
I stole glances at him throughout the flight, his side profile unreadable—jaw clenched, eyes fixed ahead, the scar on his cheek a stark reminder of his violence.
He didn’t speak, didn’t touch me, but his silence was louder than words.
The chopper finally descended over Cassian’s mansion, the familiar sprawl of stone and glass sending terror through me.
Memories flooded back—the chains, the leash, his possessive rage.
Stepping out felt like walking into a lion’s den, my legs unsteady on the helipad.
The chopper took off, leaving us alone in the fading light, the mansion looming like a fortress.
Walking inside terrified me, each step echoing in the grand foyer, the air thick with the scent of leather and polished wood.
My tummy pulsed, drawing my attention to the bump under my shirt. Sooner or later, it would show, binding me to him forever.
