Page 67 of Painter's Obsession

I laugh, stepping back and letting go of his face. “The only bitch here is you. Do I need to remind you of your place, Thorn?”

I turn my back on him, walking back to the cart to clean my tools. The room is filled with the quiet hum of tension, the air thick with the scent of blood and sweat. Behind me, I can hear his ragged breaths, the chains clinking softly as he shifts. He’s trying so hard to hold on to what little dignity he has left.

It’s adorable.

Chapter Thirty Six

Byron

Iwatch in silence as Ren meticulously cleans his tools, the metallic glint reflecting the sterile overhead light. My body feels like it’s been through hell—and I guess it has. Every nerve screams, every muscle trembles, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. It will take more than all of this. My body might betray me with its responses, but my mind is still mine. My will to survive to protect my sister—is stronger than his need to create.

The sharp scent of alcohol lingers in the air, stinging my nostrils as he wipes down a blade with slow, deliberate strokes. His onyx eyes, dark and impenetrable, flicker with something primal—a hunger that makes my skin crawl.

Suddenly, the shrill sound of a phone ringing slices through the tension. My breath hitches as Ren’s face lights up, a wicked smile curling his lips. He lifts a finger to his lips, his smirkdeepening as he watches me. “Shh,” he commands softly, a predator savoring the thrill of control.

He strides toward the small counter in the room, his naked body a contradiction of grace and menace. His hand slides over the phone, thumb swiping across the screen as he places it on speaker.

“Good morning,” he says, his voice dripping with faux warmth. “It’s nice to hear from you.” He leans against the counter, his tone so casual it sends a chill down my spine.

I almost yell, almost risk everything to shatter the illusion—but then I hear her voice. Gabriela.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice trembling. A faint sniffle follows, and it cuts through me like a blade. “I’m sorry for how I reacted.”

The silence between them feels suffocating, stretching on as I watch him smile. That smile isn’t comfort—it’s satisfaction, a monster feeding on her vulnerability. I want to scream, to lunge at him, to claw that smug expression off his face. But I can’t. Not yet. Not now.

“Hey, hey,” he coos, his voice laced with mock understanding. “No need to apologize. You’ve lost people important to you, and there I was making it about me.”

She breathes into the phone, her exhale shaky. “No, you were trying to be there for me, which is more than I can say for Byron.”

My stomach churns. I want to cry out, to tell her I’m here, that I never abandoned her. But the chains binding me are as merciless as Ren’s gaze.

He winks at me, his smirk a private taunt. “Oh, still no news from Byron?” he asks lightly, feigning concern.

“No, nothing yet.” Her voice cracks, the sound of her despair like nails scraping against my heart. “I just… I don’t know what to do.”

Ren tilts his head, studying me like an artist admiring his canvas. He’s not just listening to her pain; he’s reveling in it, savoring each tear. “Listen,” he says, “how about I come over? Tacos and a movie?”

Gabriela sniffles. “Not tonight. I’m going to Sandra’s. I need to find Byron.”

His smirk falters, just for a moment, before returning with sharper edges. “I can help,” he offers smoothly, his tone a perfect imitation of sincerity.

“No, it’s okay,” she replies, her voice tinged with exhaustion. “Ren, you’re a lawyer. I don’t know what to do. Should I report him missing? It’s been days now.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, the motion subtle but telling. “You can,” he says slowly, as if weighing his words, “but isn’t this normal for Byron? I mean, if I recall correctly, he’s been known to disappear, hasn’t he? The streets, the selling—maybe he’s just tired of working for scraps.”

“Ren,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m scared.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy and raw. My chest tightens, the weight of her fear crushing me. I’ve failed her. Even now, I’m here—useless.

“There’s no need to be scared,” he says smoothly, his tone like honey laced with venom. “I’m here. Tell me what you need, Gabriela, and it’s done.”

She sobs softly, the sound gut-wrenching. And then I see it—Ren’s cock hardening, his arousal growing with every tear she sheds. My anguish, her despair—they’re fuel for his twisted pleasure. His hand moves to his length, stroking it slowly as his onyx eyes lock onto mine, daring me to look away.

“I don’t know what I need, Ren,” she breathes, her voice small. “Can I call you back later? Sandra’s calling on the other line.”

“Of course,” he replies, his voice warm, soothing. “I’ll be waiting for your call. I’m here for you.”

The line goes dead, and the silence that follows is deafening. He places the phone back on the counter with a casualness that makes my skin crawl. Then he turns, his gaze fixed on me, his smirk curling like smoke around his words.

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