Page 67 of Dark Obsession

“Tell you what, Petrov,” he purrs. “This can all stop. I’ll even let you go free. All you have to do is renounce her. Tell me you wantnothing to do with Elena. That she’s all mine, and you’ll never look back.”

Grigori’s head lifts slowly, blood trickling from his mouth. He doesn’t even hesitate. “Fuck… off.”

I can’t help the grin that breaks across my face. That’s my Grigori. He’s hurt, barely able to stay upright, but he’s as unbreakable as ever.

Molina notices and laughs, his amusement quickly replaced by something dark and ruthless.

“Enjoy that little moment of pride,” he says, turning to me with a sneer. “It’s not going to last. I know how to make men hurt, how to break them. When we’re done with your beloved Grigori, he’ll be spitting out every Ivanov secret he knows just to make the pain end.”

I lean forward, meeting his eyes with every ounce of defiance I have. “Then you don’t know Grigori.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “We’ll see.” Molina turns back to Claudio, giving him a little hand signal. “Let’s give her a taste of what her lover can endure, shall we?”

Claudio goes to work, his fists landing brutally across Grigori’s body, each hit heavier than the last. Grigori lets out a few grunts, low and guttural, but nothing more. He refuses to give them that satisfaction, even as he takes blow after blow.

Molina’s eyes gleam with a sick kind of delight as he watches Grigori’s beating. Then, with a cruel smile, he turns back to me. “Since you’re so keen on being involved, why don’t you help me pick what we start with next?” He gestures to the tray on the table beside Claudio, laden with metal tools, each one designedto inflict pain in its own twisted way.

“Don’t want to choose?” he asks mockingly. “That’s fine. Claudio has his own favorites.”

His finger hovers over the speaker button, his eyes locked on mine, waiting for me to say something.

I look at Grigori. Every bruise, every drop of blood on his face only hardens my resolve. If he’s going to endure this hell, then he’s going to do it knowing exactly how I feel.

Taking a deep breath, I yell as loud as I can, “I love you, Grigori! I always have, and no matter what they do, we’re getting out of this, you hear me?”

Molina’s finger lifts off the speaker button, cutting my words short, but it doesn’t matter. I know Grigori heard me. Even through the pain, he lifts his head, his bruised lips pulling into a small, bloody smile.And for a second, I forget where we are. I forget the whole goddamn nightmare around us because it’s in that moment, I know he’ll be able to withstand anything they throw at him.

Molina breaks the silence with a laugh, cruel and mocking. “Did you enjoy that little confession, Grigori? Because I think it’s time you paid for it.” He glances at Claudio, his grin widening. “Take one of his fingers, one he’ll miss. A nice little memento of this touching moment.”

My stomach drops, my mind racing. I have to figure out a way out of this mess, and fast. Suddenly, both Molina and Claudio stiffen, their hands going to their phones. For the first time, I see a flicker of worry pass across their faces as they read whatever message just came through. Molina lowers his phone, a furious scowl twisting his face.

And then I hear it, a voice faintly crackling through the speaker of one of the guards’ radios in Spanish, sending chills down my spine and sparking a fire inside me at the same time.

“Los Ivanovs están aquí!”

A grin spreads across my face before I can stop it.

My family has arrived.

Chapter 29

Elena

Molina sneers at me, his eyes crawling over me with a smug, sick amusement.

“You keep that beautiful ass right where it is,querida.I’ll handle your brothers then be right back to continue the show.”He turns on his heel and steps out, the door slamming behind him. A moment later, Claudio grins at me through the glass before throwing one last punch into Grigori’s gut then following after Molina.

They’re gone but their evil still hangs thick in the room. Grigori and I are both stuck in these damn chairs, and he looks like he’s barely hanging on by a thread, his face is bloodied, bruised, and his eyes are hollow with pain.

“Grigori…” I whisper under my breath, straining against my bindings, trying to catch his eye through the glass.

Then, to my utter shock, he flexes his arms, gripping his wrists with such intensity that the ropes around them snap. With a pained grunt, he hoists himself up from the chair, each movement fierce and full of that incredible, stubborn strengththat only he possesses.

He catches my eye, lifting a finger to his lips to make me stay quiet. Moving with swift purpose, he grabs one of the discarded torture tools off the table and wedges it into the lock on his door, jiggling it with a precision that makes my heart beat faster in anticipation.

Finally the lock clicks, and he swings the door open without a sound. Within seconds, he’s at the door to my room, working that same tool into my lock.

The door opens, and he steps in, that familiar, wry smirk on his battered face as his eyes land on me. His gaze softens, and there’s a spark of warmth there that sends a wave of relief crashing over me.

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