Page 63 of Possession

Instead, I stride upstairs, shocked when my old bedroom door opens and Nikita leans against the doorframe. Her barely covered tits heave over the top of a red lace playsuit, and I clench my teeth so goddamn hard it’s a wonder they don’t shatter.

I don’t have time for this shit.

What I want is a shower to wash away the smell of smoke from my body and to slide into bed with my little doll, but it’s clear she has other plans for me. Plans I don’t intend on reciprocating.

In three strides, I have her backing into the bedroom, and the way in which her face encompasses a sultry smile tells me she doesn’t realize the danger she’s in or she doesn’t care. Each outcome was deadly for her.

My tattooed hand snaps out, gripping her throat until her eyes bulge. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re still doing in my house, Nikita. But you’re not fucking welcome.”

She licks her lips, the red lipstick, perfected makeup, and styled hair an indicator she’s been awake a while, no doubt stalking the halls waiting for me.

“I-I—” I cut her off with my grip and a shake of my head.

“If you ever fucking disrespect my girl like that again, I’ll cut you so fucking bad no man would look twice at you.” That grabs her attention, judging by the whimper that clogs beneath my touch. She always was so fucking vain and desperate to be a socialite.

“Nod your head. Tell me you understand.”

Her head tilts slightly, but it’s enough for me to know I have her understanding.

Releasing her throat, I step back, delighting in the way her hand rushes to her neck as she sucks in sharp, desperate breaths of air.

I spin on my heel, done with her and this conversation, ready for the day to be over, even though it’s only just begun.

“I’ll sign over custody of Oliver.” My body freezes on her words. This is something I’ve wanted so many times—her out of his life once and for all, but she’s used him as a weapon. She loves the fact she’s married and has a son with a Mafia heir, the notoriety to it meaning too much to her to give him up. “But I want one thing from you first.”

Finally, I turn to face her, and her face breaks out into a sly smile.

Like I didn’t just have my hand wrapped around her neck, threatening her demise.

I crack my neck from side to side, my temper wearing thin. “Name it,” I grit out. Determined to do anything it takes to give my son the security and love he deserves, even if it means giving in to the bitch.

She drops onto the bed and parts her legs while her pupils blaze with triumph, and as the words “Here’s what I want” slip from her lips, I can’t help but feel like I’m doing a deal with the devil himself.

Ellie

My mind raced all night as I paced my bedroom, chewing on the corners of my fingernails like I would when I was a child.

What had him rushing away so quickly without looking back?

Is he hurt?

Why is it 6:30 a.m., and I’ve not heard anything from him?

I glance at my ruffled bed sheets. There’s not been a day since me moving in here that we’ve not had time together in this bed. Our bed.

And now, with his wife around, he’s suddenly nowhere to be seen.

I try to stay out of my head, to ignore the war raging within me, telling me to run and stay away from Rafael, his wife, and son. That there’s only going to be more heartache and destruction at the end of it all, and the end will be me.

What else do I have?

I’ve dropped my college plans; I barely have any friends. Hell, even my own father doesn’t want me.

Here, I have Oliver and the man I love.

I have a home.

So with that in mind, I swing open my bedroom door, deciding it’s probably easier if I get up and start my day. Maybe baking fresh cookies for Oliver will take my mind off things.

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