Page 42 of Until You Break

My jaw tightens, the anger simmering hot in my chest. “It’s more than a fucking obsession, Matteo. Don’t try to reduce it to something you’ll never understand.”

“Enlighten me, then,” he says, putting his fork down, crossing his arms as he leans back. “Tell me what it is, then, because all I see is you tearing yourself up over pussy.”

“Matteo, drop it,” Luca warns, but Matteo ignores him, his eyes locked on me and waiting for an answer.

“It’s not just an obsession,” I grind out again, the words burning as they leave my mouth, the truth I’ve been holding back finally pushing through, raw and ugly. “It’s not something I can just walk away from.”

Luca’s eyes narrow, watching me carefully, like he’s piecing something together. “Not something you can walk away from?” he repeats, his voice soft, like he’s testing out the words. “Dom… is this more than just control for you?”

I don’t answer, but he doesn’t need me to. He can see it, knows me too damn well, knows the truth before I even have to say it. A slow smile spreads across his face. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Matteo lets out a low whistle, leaning back with a grin. “Didn’t think I’d live to see the day you got caught up in feelings, Dom.”

“Shut the hell up, Matteo,” I snap and shoot him a glare.

But it’s Luca’s words that dig under my skin, twisting in my chest—a truth I’ve been fighting for years. Because it’s not just about control, not just about having her. It’s more than that. It’s something that’s twisted itself into every part of me, a part I can’t rip out even if I wanted to.

“Don’t tell me what I feel,” I mutter, even as the words start to unravel in my head, each one hitting a nerve. “It’s not love.”

Luca chuckles, shaking his head. “You can dress it up however you want, Dom, but I know you. I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way you talk about her. This isn’t just some game to you like you used to pretend it was. You’re in love with her, and it’s tearing you apart.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “Love. You think love is what this is? This is need, Luca. This is knowing that no matter where she goes, no matter what life she tries to build, she’ll always come back to me. She can’t walk away, and neither can I. And if you think that’s love, then you’re more naïve than I thought.”

“Then why does it hurt you so damn much?” Luca asks, cutting through my defenses like a blade. “Why are you so angry, so lost whenever you come back here? Because if it’s just about control, just about keeping her close, then it shouldn’t feel like this.”

I turn away, jaw clenched, every word pulling me closer to a truth I don’t want to face. I don’t want to admit that I’ve let her into places no one else has touched, that I’m not just possessive. I’m bound to her, chained to the need for her, to something I can’t control.

“This isn’t love,” I repeat, but the words are weaker now, a hollow echo that doesn’t hold the same conviction.

Luca gets up and walks toward me. “Then prove it. Walk away and let her go. If it’s not love, if it’s not real, then leaving should be easy.”

I turn, anger flaring, because he knows—damn him—he knows that I can’t. That even if I wanted to, even if I could somehow pull myself away, it wouldn’t matter. She’s a part of me, etched into every dark, twisted corner of who I am. Leaving her would be like tearing myself apart.

“It’s… she’s—She’s… fuck.” I run a hand through my hair, pacing, trying to get a handle on the mess in my head, but it’s useless.

“You don’t understand,” I snarl, my voice ragged, my fists clenching and unclenching as the words tear out of me.

“You don’t get what it’s like to need someone so much it fucking eats at you, to have them buried so deep in your head that you can’t think straight, you can’t sleep, you can’t fucking breathe without feeling them there.” I slam my fist against my temple, the pain grounding me for a second, but it doesn’t stop the rush and doesn’t quiet the rage.

“She’s in my blood,” I mutter, almost to myself, my fingers digging into my scalp as if I can tear her out, but I know it’s useless, it always has been. “An addiction I can’t shake, a goddamn sickness, and you want to call it love? Fine, call it whatever the hell you want. But it’s something I can’t control, and no, I can’t walk away. I won’t.”

She’s everywhere, seeping into every thought, every damn part of me, and I can’t escape it. I don’t fucking want to.

Matteo watches me, his smirk fading, something almost serious in his expression. “So what’s the plan, then? You gonna keep screwing with her life, messing with her head until she gives in? You think that’s gonna end well for either of you?”

I let out a harsh laugh, the sound bitter. “You think I care how it ends, Matteo? This isn’t about endings. It’s about her, about reminding her that she’s mine, that no matter how far she tries to run, she’s never going to shake me.”

Luca nods, like he understands, even if he doesn’t like it. “But what about you? You keep going down this road, you’re not just going to hurt her. You’re going to tear yourself apart.”

“Better to be torn apart with her than live a life without her,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them, cutting through the air like a confession I hadn’t planned on making.

They exchange a look, something passing between them, and I know they don’t get it, not fully. They think it’s obsession, possession, but it’s more.

Matteo sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, like he’s resigned. “You really are fucked up, you know that?”

“I’m a Romano, comes with the fucking territory,” I say, a faint smirk tugging at my mouth, though there’s no humor in it. “But if I’m going down, I’m taking her with me.”

“Just… be careful, Dom,” Luca says. “If you push her too far, you might lose her for good.”

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