Page 113 of Unapologetic Obsession
“I think you do. You know very well that Rayyan was both your brother and your cousin.”
My stomach rocked. It turned out Professor Maxwell hadn’t been bluffing about knowing my father’s secret. Papa had an affair with his sister-in-law, and she fell pregnant with Rayyan. It was a well-kept secret only Rayyan, Poppy, and I were privy to. The fallout would be devastating if the word got out, even though Rayyan was long dead.
He tsked, leaning forward until I could smell his minty breath. “I wonder how your uncle would feel about Rayyan being the product of his wife’s infidelity and his brother’s betrayal.”
“I don’t know what you think you know, but this sounds like a baseless rumor.”
“Is that why you look so rattled?”
“Who wouldn’t be at these filthy accusations?”
There was a satisfied glint behind his eyes. “Hmm. Would it still be just a baseless rumor if I ran your dead brother’s DNA against your father’s?”
I glared at the floor, wishing I had the guts to glare at him instead. “How?” I whispered at last.
The corners of his mouth curled upward, a predator who’d cornered his prey. I hadn’t asked the question, but he understood. How did he find out?
“The resemblance between you two is uncanny. I had my suspicions when I was investigating him, and you just confirmed it.”
Of course I had walked right into his trap.
My breath hitched when the second part of his statement registered. He was investigating Rayyan, a dead person who should be allowed to rest in peace. Sure, Rayyan hadn’t been a good person by any standard—vicious in nature with an addiction to drugs, alcohol, and gambling. One time, he had gone so overboard with an escort that the family stepped in to pay for reparations. Nonetheless, he was my brother. Neither of us admitted it out loud, and now he was dead and we’d never get that closure. The thought haunted me.
“Whatever you have against me, leave my family out of it. I don’t want you spying on them.”
“I need leverage to deal with your father?—”
“This isn’t about my father,” I cut him off.
His eyes searched my face for the truth. “Then I’ll give you another chance to come clean. Tell me the real reason you’re pushing me away.”
I considered disclosing the truth, that I mistook him for Damon. There was only one thing stopping me. I didn’t want to be the catalyst to drag his childhood memories to the surface.
As I had expected, he saw my silence as defiance, whereas it was compassion.
“Tell me, so I can find a solution,” he asked, some of his control wavering with frustration.
“Why can’t you just accept that I don’t want to be with you?” I whispered, hoping he would take me at my word.
An unreadable expression crossed his face. His relentlessly probing eyes dissected me, and I nearly wilted under his glower. My chest tightened at the hollow recognition in his gaze, and I opened my mouth to apologize.
But he spoke first. “My mother was convinced I was a psychotic monster.” He kept watching me, letting the sentence sink in. “She was right.”
The words hung between us as my mind scrambled to process the sudden shift in conversation. He had never spoken to me about his mother. I was glad I had kept my mouth shut about Damon. Old wounds had been reopened, and it revolved around his mother choosing his brother over him.
The sadness I felt over his childhood clawed at my heart. But his face was perfectly blank, every emotion canceled out. He was stating facts, not at all interested in the pain behind them.
“Not only her. Everyone was terrified of the big, bad wolf.” He shook his head. “Except you. It was stupid to let me in because you should’ve known I wouldn’t let you go. Being near you woke something I’ve never felt before, and that’s why I don’t accept your answer. You do want me, I felt it every time you stared at me, baked for me, left me notes. You say you can’t bear to be touched, but you fucking melt when you’re under me.”
His gaze traveled slowly down my face before settling on my lips, lingering there with unsettling intensity as the words left him.
“I’ve been trying to figure you out for months. The way you hate taking credit for a job well done but have no problem being the fall guy when others fuck up. The way you stand on the sidelines while your friends take center stage. You’re a guest in your own life, barely connected to your environment.” Something dark rippled behind his eyes. “You and I are the same. I don’t feel connected to anything other than you. That was how I knew you belonged to me.”
My pulse thrashed like a trapped bird beneath my skin. Something wild and desperate climbed up my throat, urging me to howl until his words disappeared beneath the noise.
Professor Maxwell’s fingers locked around my elbow again before he tugged me to his chest, his shadow swallowing me whole. An amber and cedar cologne filled my lungs until I couldn’t breathe. I silently prayed for someone—anyone—to enter the room, though I knew no one would.
I tried pushing away from him. In response, his fingers clamped around my elbow like a throbbing bracelet of pain.
