Page 128 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

The raw confusion in her voice makes my heart ache. Because this is Eva - our fierce, dangerous Queen who orchestrated Domino's social destruction with terrifying precision. Who's spent years planning perfect revenge against her tormentor.

And now she's falling apart because that same tormentor might die before she's ready to let him go.

"I don't understand," she continues, voice cracking. "I don't understand why I can't stop shaking. Why I keep thinking about him alone in that operating room. Why I-" She breaks off with something between laugh and sob. "Why I'm terrified he might actually die."

"Eva-"

"He can't die!" The words explode from her with sudden vehemence. "He's not allowed to die like this - not from some mysterious illness or failed surgery or whatever the fuck is happening. That's not- that's not how this is supposed to end!"

I sink onto the trailer's small couch, understanding dawning as I listen to her unravel. "Because you're supposed to be the one who ends it," I say softly. "On your terms. When you decide it's time."

"Yes!" The relief in her voice suggests I've finally articulated something she's been struggling to express. "He's mine to destroy - mine to break or save or whatever I choose. But this?"Another broken laugh escapes her. "This feels like someone's stealing my revenge. Like they're taking away my right to decide his fate."

"Your right," I echo, hearing the possessiveness in her tone. The same darkness that draws all of us to her, that makes us want to own and protect and worship in equal measure.

"I know it's fucked up," she whispers, vulnerability bleeding through her usual careful control. "I know I should probably be glad he's suffering, should see this as karma finally catching up to him. But all I can think about is how wrong it feels. How this isn't- this isn't what I planned. This isn't how it's supposed to happen."

The words catch slightly, and I can picture her so clearly - pacing the sterile hospital halls, running hands through that shortened silver hair, radiating the kind of dangerous grace that always makes people step carefully around her.

"He's mine," she continues, voice dropping lower. "My tormentor. My nightmare. My stepbrother who broke everything good in my world. And now someone else is trying to take him from me before I'm ready to let him go."

The possession in her tone should probably worry me. Should probably make me question her stability, her ability to separate revenge from something darker and more complicated.

But all I feel is understanding. Because isn't that what draws us all to her? This capacity for both destruction and devotion, this ability to hate and own and protect all at once?

"Have you called Marcus?" I ask, trying to focus on practical concerns. "He might be able to-"

"He's already here," she cuts in. "In the operating room actually. Pulled some strings with his family name to observe the surgery. Said something about needing to document symptoms and progression..."

Her voice trails off, and I catch the unspoken implications. Marcus isn't just observing - he's gathering data. Trying to understand whatever carefully engineered illness has brought one of our Kings to his knees.

"What aren't you telling me?" I press gently, hearing the weight of everything she's holding back.

A long pause follows, broken only by the sound of her measured breathing. When she speaks again, her voice carries that dangerous edge that always makes my blood run cold:

"Marcus thinks this is a message," she says quietly. "A warning about what happens when you don't pay your debts on time."

"The Blind One," I breathe, remembering the whispered conversations from the makeup chair. The pattern of mysterious illnesses stretching back generations.

"He's collecting early," Eva confirms grimly. "And Domino- whatever deal he made, whatever price he agreed to pay..."

"It's coming due," I finish when she trails off. "And this is just the beginning."

Another broken laugh escapes her. "God, I hate this. Hate feeling so fucking helpless. Hate watching someone else hurt what's mine. Hate-" Her voice catches. "Hate that I actually care whether he lives or dies."

"Eva-"

"I'm supposed to hate him," she whispers, real anguish bleeding through her carefully maintained control. "Supposed to want him dead or broken or suffering. Not- not standing in this fucking hospital feeling like my heart might explode every time those surgery doors open. Not wanting to burn this whole place down if they don't save him."

The raw honesty in her voice makes my chest tight. Because this is Eva - our Queen who orchestrates perfect revengewhile maintaining careful distance. Who plans destruction with clinical precision.

Who's finally admitting that maybe her feelings for Domino have always been more complicated than simple hatred.

"It's okay to care," I say softly, hearing how her breathing has grown more ragged. "It's okay to want him alive even if you also want him to suffer. It's okay for this to be complicated."

"Is it though?" She laughs again, the sound edged with something like hysteria. "Is it okay that I'm literally losing my mind because the stepbrother who tortured me for years might die before I'm ready? Before I've decided if he deserves redemption or destruction or something in between?"

"Yes," I say firmly. "Because he's yours. Your tormentor, your nightmare, your complicated piece in this game we're all playing. And no one gets to take that from you - not even The Blind One."

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