Page 41 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

Our shared history floods back – countless therapy sessions, experimental treatments, nights spent in his mother's lab while she worked to understand our unique conditions. How she'd called us her "beautiful puzzles" and promised to help us put all the pieces back together.

The memory begins to fade, replaced by creeping darkness. That's when the voices start – no longer whispering but screaming for blood.

***"You failed them! Failed your Kings! Too weak, too soft, too easy to take down!"***

***"Remember how they hurt him? How they hurt US? Kill them all! Starting with that cop who dared harm what's ours!"***

Giggles bubble up from my throat, echoing in the void. Each laugh carries years of pain, of being called broken, of watchingthose I love suffer. "Yes," I agree, feeling my consciousness resurface like a shark scenting blood. "Let's play."

Reality comes back in fragments – voices trying to reach me through the drug-induced haze. I open my eyes to see the female officer performing CPR on her fallen colleague, completely focused on saving his life. The sight makes me smile, remembering all the times I've watched Marcus save lives in his lab.

Ren is propped against a wall, still groggy from the dart, while Marcus helps him stay upright. Our eyes meet briefly, and I see the recognition there – he knows which version of me is surfacing. The version his mother's research warned about.

But it's Ares who has his arms around me, his voice urgent in my ear, trying to reach the Eva he knows. "Eva, you're hallucinating. You're safe. Hannah's bringing the antidote. Just stay still."

I laugh, the sound carrying no warmth. All those years of trying to fix what was broken in me, when really, I just needed to embrace it. "??? ? ???." The Russian flows off my tongue like honey mixed with poison.

Marcus's head snaps up, eyes widening as he translates. "Checkmate," he breathes, then more urgently: "Ares, hold her!"

But I'm already moving, slipping through Ares's arms like smoke. Knifey feels alive in my hand as I dart toward the unsuspecting officer. The voices sing with approval, drowning out Ares's shout of warning.

Sorry, Marcus. Sometimes broken things can't be fixed. Sometimes they just need to break everything else too.

The warehouse air crackles with tension as I launch toward the female officer, Knifey gleaming in the emergency lights. The drug makes everything pulse with unnatural clarity – each heartbeat echoing like thunder in my ears, every movement leaving trails of light in my vision.

Ren appears between us, his movements still affected by the dart but driven by pure instinct. "Eva, stop!" His voice sounds distant, distorted through the haze of chemicals flooding my system.

Marcus and Ares try to flank me, but in my altered state, their movements seem laughably slow. I weave between them, using Ren's compromised balance against him. The voices in my head scream for blood, drowning out their pleas for me to stop.

"??????? ???????? ? ??????, ? ??? ?????? ????? ??????? ???????."

The Russian phrase cuts through everything like a blade of ice, making me freeze mid-strike. The Blind One's words resonate with something deep in my psyche, awakening memories I didn't know I possessed. But before I can process their meaning, Ren tackles me from the side, sending Knifey skittering across the floor.

"Now would be good!" he shouts upward, struggling to contain my drug-enhanced strength.

A figure descends from the shadows above – Hannah, moving with deadly grace on her wire. Kian and Arlo follow close behind,their synchronized movements making them appear as mirror images in my fractured vision.

Hannah doesn't hesitate, crossing the distance with practiced efficiency. The needle she plunges into my neck feels like liquid ice spreading through my veins, fighting against the fire of the hallucinogen. The world begins to tilt and blur, reality becoming fluid around me.

Through increasingly unfocused eyes, I watch the female officer struggle to her feet. Despite the shallow cut across her throat – where Knifey had just grazed her before Ren's intervention – determination burns in her eyes as she raises her weapon.

"You're all under arrest," she manages, voice rough but steady. Her gaze fixes on Ren with particular betrayal. "Even you, Commander Hudson."

Ren sighs, the sound carrying years of complicated history. Despite the lingering effects of the dart, he moves with sudden fluid grace. His hand finds the precise point on her neck, and she crumples unconscious but alive.

"I'll clean this up," he says simply, already reaching for his phone.

"Wait..." Marcus's eyes narrow as he studies Ren with new intensity. "Aren't you the Ren who dated Dom? Or rather... he was interested in..."

A knowing smirk crosses Ren's face as he rolls his eyes, his teal and black hair catching the emergency lights. "He was interested in me," he corrects, checking the female officer's pulse. "Not the other way around. And I didn't die in that ring fight everyone whispers about – that was my cousin. People always mix us up because we both did cage fighting for fun back then."

"Matteo knew a Ren who died in the ring," Ares notes thoughtfully, still cradling my increasingly limp form. "Said it was one of the bloodiest matches in underground history."

"Yeah, that would be my cousin," Ren confirms, something dark passing behind his eyes. "We looked alike, similar age. The difference is, I stopped. He got addicted until it killed him."

All eyes turn to the blindfolded man, who remains unnaturally still in the deepening shadows. There's something about his presence that seems to bend reality around him.

"Your name," Ares demands, protective instinct evident in his voice. "Or at least an alias."

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