Page 54 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

But she was right about this too. It was never hate – not really. It was obsession, pure and consuming. The need to be the center of her world, even if it meant being the villain in her story. To own every tear, every scream, every moment of defiance. To break her so completely that she could never think of anything but me.

"You gave me a choice," I say, my voice rough from the rain and something else I refuse to name. Another step forward, water dripping steadily from my chin. "Run and live, or stay and face whatever game you're playing."

The crowd shifts uncomfortably at the raw honesty in my voice. They're used to masks and manufactured drama, not thisstripped-bare truth between us. But I see Eva's lips curve into a real smile – the kind I haven't seen since we were children, before I taught her that happiness was a weakness to be exploited.

"And yet here you are," she responds, genuine curiosity coloring her tone. "Walking straight into what could very well be a trap."

A laugh tears from my throat – broken and wild and too honest for this place of careful facades. "Isn't that what obsession is?" My eyes never leave hers as I take another step closer. "Knowing the trap exists but walking into it anyway?"

Understanding passes between us like electricity. We're both caught in this web we've woven, both equally obsessed with this dance of destruction. Perhaps that's why she's chosen me as her sixth King – because no one else could understand this darkness quite like I do.

After all, I helped create it.

"Your obsession runs deeper than most realize," she continues, and something in her voice makes the entire room hold its breath. "Tell them, Domino. Tell them how many years you spent breaking me, shaping me, molding me into this creature they now fear."

Each word hits like a physical blow, but I force myself to keep walking forward. The crowd creates an even wider berth now, perhaps finally sensing the dangerous energy crackling between us. My soaked clothes leave puddles with every step, but I barely notice the cold anymore. Everything narrows to this moment, this confession she's demanding.

"Since we were children," I admit, my voice carrying clearly through the silent ballroom. "Every calculated accident, every orchestrated humiliation, every 'unfortunate incident' that left her broken but never quite destroyed." The words taste like ash in my mouth, but I force myself to continue. "I couldn't stop.Didn't want to stop. The more she survived, the more beautiful she became."

Shocked gasps ripple through the crowd, but Eva's smile grows sharper, more predatory. She knows what this confession costs me – knows that admitting this obsession in front of everyone who matters in our world is its own kind of destruction.

"And now?" she prompts, tilting her head in that way that's always made my blood burn. "Now that I've survived everything you threw at me, now that I've turned your lessons back on you... what does your obsession demand?"

I'm close enough to the stage now to see the slight tremor in her hands, the way she's fighting whatever drugs they must have given her to keep her standing after our earlier fight. Even now, she's the strongest person I've ever known.

"Whatever you want it to," I answer honestly, too far gone for pretense. "Death, destruction, devotion – I'll give you anything you ask for. Because you're right. I am obsessed. Have been since the moment Father brought you home and your existence threatened everything I thought I wanted."

The admission hangs in the air like smoke, making several people step back in alarm. But Eva's eyes spark with something that looks almost like triumph.

"Then kneel," she commands, her voice carrying all the authority of the Queen she's become. "Kneel before your Ruthless Queen and swear your obsession to me."

Without hesitation, I drop to my knees, uncaring of the wet marble against my already ruined clothes. Water continues to drip from my hair, my clothes, creating a growing pool around me like some twisted baptism.

"I swear it," I declare, loud enough for everyone to hear. "My obsession, my devotion, my very existence – it's all yours to command. To destroy or rebuild as you see fit."

The silence that follows is absolute, heavy with the weight of what's just transpired. Then Eva's laugh rings out – not the broken sound from the warehouse, but something darker, more satisfied.

"Rise, my obsessed King," she commands, extending one crystal-covered hand toward me. "Let's show them all what true devotion looks like."

As I stand and take my first step toward the stage, I catch my reflection in a nearby mirror. I barely recognize myself – soaked to the bone, covered in blood and bruises, eyes wild with a truth I've finally stopped trying to hide.

But maybe that's fitting. After all, obsession was never meant to be pretty.

It was meant to be this – raw and desperate and absolutely consuming.

Just like us.

The Price Of Obsession

~GEMINI~

"Rise, my obsessed King," the words taste like honey and poison on my tongue as I extend my hand toward Domino's kneeling form.

"Wait."

The command cuts through the tension like a blade, making everyone freeze. I know that voice – would know it anywhere. The crowd parts like water as Mr. Prescott makes his way toward the stage, each step measured and deliberate. Unlike the others in their formal black and white, he wears a suit of deep burgundy that seems to absorb shadows. My birth father, the man who sold me to the Leightons, now commands the room's attention as if he never left.

How long has he been watching? Planning? Waiting for this exact moment?

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