Page 66 of Dark Obsession

A laugh escapes me, sharp and mocking. “You think I’d ever let you do that to me? You think I’d ever let you get close enough?”

“I always get what I want,” he says, his voice smooth and venomous. “Breaking you will be the final insult to your family, to the man who took everything from me.” His mouth curls into an evil grin. The thought of being trapped here with him, of him touching me, sends a horrifying chill down my spine.

I draw back, seething, then spit right in his face. “You’ll never have me, you sad little man.”

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he wipes his cheek then laughs, a low, satisfied sound. “Oh, you’ll come around,” he says. “They always do.”

Before I can snap back, his phone buzzes. His gaze never leaves me as he picks up, and though I can’t hear the other side of the conversation, whatever is being said seems to thrill him. His expression twists with malicious pleasure, and a sick feeling settles in my stomach. This news, whatever it is, can’t be good for me.

Molina slips his phone back into his pocket, smug and self-assured. He leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with a casual air that only makes me hate him more.

“To be honest, I haven’t worked out all the details yet,” he says, almost conversationally. “Who I’ll kill, who I’ll leave alive and broken—those choices are still up for debate.” His eyes darken as he leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But one thingis certain, I’m going to make Grigori suffer. And you, princess? You’re going to be right there to watch every second of it.”

I let out a hollow laugh, not caring if it infuriates him. “Wow, small and pathetic.”

Molina’s face shifts, his playful arrogance vanishing, replaced with something cold and lethal. For the first time, his expression is deadly serious, his eyes as empty and dark as a grave.

He’s silent as his eyes drill into me, and I feel the weight of real danger settling in.

“You think you’re so clever. But you don’t know anything about loss. My daughters wereinnocent. And he murdered them.”

My stomach twists, but I don’t let it show. I meet his stare, cold and unwavering. “Maybe your daughters would still be alive if you hadn’t pulled them into your filthy business. If they hadn’t been in that den—”

His hand shoots out before I can finish, slapping me hard across the face. The sting is immediate, sharp enough to make my vision blur, and I taste the blood trickling down from my nose.

Molina leans in close, his mouth twisted into a snarl. “One more word about my daughters and I’ll do things to your face that will make children cover their eyes in fear when they see you.Entiende?”

I glare back, refusing to show any fear, but my pulse is pounding. He stares at me for a long moment, then straightens, letting his cruel words hang in the air.

He raps on the door, and two guards enter, their faces blank as they move to my side. One of them roughly ties my gag back in place while the other yanks me up out of the chair.

Molina watches, a small, pleased smile on his lips as they lead me out of the room and into the dim hallway, his gaze on me like a predator scouting its next meal.

The guards shove me down the hall, Molina strutting ahead, practically glowing with his twisted pride. He rambles about his grand plans, his voice full of sick excitement.

“My soldiers are already stationed, waiting for my command,” he says, glancing back at me, his smile oozing with malice. “I’m going to erase the Ivanovs from this city, erase everything they’ve built. I’ll come down so hard and mercilessly that no one will eventhinkabout standing against me.”

I grit my teeth, every word from him making my blood boil. If only my hands weren’t tied…

We reach a room that looks like something out of a cheap cop drama—a single chair facing a large pane of glass. The guards throw me into the chair, binding my arms and legs to it. Molina walks over, takes out the gag, and steps back with a smug grin.

“What’s this?” I demand, fury lacing my voice. “Think I’m here for story time, you sadistic bastard?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, Elena, I didn’t take that gag off to listen to your barbs. I took it off to listen to your screams.” With that, he raps on the glass. The room on the other side lights up, revealing a horrific sight—Grigori, tied to a chair, his face battered and bruised, blood staining his shirt. My heart clenches, a painful knot tightening in my chest. He’s alive, but it’s clear he’s been through hell.

I whip my head to Molina. “What the hell are you doing?”

He just stands there, grinning, as if my horror is the highlight of his day. “You wanted to see him, didn’t you? Well here he is. The man who took everything from me, who’s going to suffer while you watch.”

I clench my fists, fighting to keep my emotions in check. But then the door to Grigori’s room opens, and in walks Claudio Sanchez, his sick smile stretching as he approaches Grigori. He picks up a brutal-looking pair of pliers from the tray beside him, holding them up like he’s about to conduct an orchestra.

Sanchez sneers through the glass, eyes glinting, his voice piped in through a speaker system. “I’m just getting started with your boyfriend here. I’ve got a whole night planned. Every scream is just for you.”

Grigori catches my eye through the glass, and I see determination, defiance, and promise in his gaze. But he’s barely holding on, and I can’t do a damn thing except watch.

Molina gives a casual nod, and just like that, Claudio swings, his fist connecting hard with Grigori’s jaw. Blood spatters against the wall, and Grigori’s head snaps back, his body tense and straining against the ropes. Claudio lands another hit, and another, like he’s throwing warm-up punches, testing Grigori’s limits.

“Ah,” Molina drawls, leaning his shoulder against the wall, a look of amusement dancing in his eyes. “You know, they say you have to tenderize the meat for the best results.” His gaze slides back to Grigori, and he taps a button on a panel, his voice echoing through the speaker system into the next room.

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