Page 10 of My Ruthless Obsession

I stare at the wall, but it offers me no comfort. The weight of my insecurities presses down on me, smothering my confidence and making me feel empty inside. The room feels too small, the darkness closing around me like a shroud. My chest tightens as I struggle to breathe, seeking an escape from my own thoughts.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t outrun the truth—that I’m both captivated and terrified by Marco Vanetti, and this seductive yearning he’s awakened within me.

The soft echo of heavy footsteps shatters the silence of my room and jolts me from my downward spiral. As each step draws nearer, anticipation and anxiety coil in my stomach because I can already recognize who they belong to.

He’s coming for me again, maybe this time to throw me out. Or worse, he’s come to kill me, believing I serve no purpose.

Not ready to face him, I feign sleep, praying he’ll believe my ruse. Adrenaline floods my veins as I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing. Then my door creaks open, revealing the silhouette of his imposing figure against the dim moonlight light that gleams from the hallway.

“Lyla,” he calls softly, but I remain motionless, willing my body to relax beneath the covers.

He closes the door with a muted snick, and his deliberate steps are subdued by the plush carpet as he moves closer. The air shifts, laden with tension and unspoken words, while the scent of the sex we had a few hours ago still lingers around us. My chin quivers and I pinch my lips together, torn between the longing for his touch and the resentment simmering beneath the surface.

“Lyla?” he whispers when he reaches my side of the bed. “Are you awake?”

My heart thumps against my ribs, and I swear the room is silent enough that he can hear it.

He hesitates for a moment, then reaches out with a tenderness that seems foreign to his usual controlled demeanor. His fingers graze my temple with a care that surprises me, brushing away a few strands of my hair. The intimacy of this simple gesture sends a shiver down my spine, and I fight the urge to lean into his touch.

“Fuck, Princess,” he murmurs, the regret in his voice palpable when he sits on the edge of the bed. “I shouldn’t have left you like that.”

Then why did you?

There’s a sharp pain in my chest, and my conflicting emotions threaten to overwhelm me. As dejected as I am, there’s a part of me that wants to reach out and comfort him, because I can’t imagine what’s going through his head to make him come back. So I maintain the guise of sleep, waiting to hear what else he has to say.

He withdraws his hand, and the warmth of his touch lingers on my face, a reminder of the delicate circumstances that draw us together.

“I’m…” He exhales a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

I force my eyes to remain closed, but I’m dying to see his face right now.

“I know you hate me, and you have every right to. I’m emotionless and cruel, but that’s the man I’ve always been.” He stands and begins pacing beside me.

Heiscruel, but he’s not emotionless. No one is. He’s just pushed his feelings so far down that he can’t identify them now, but I know they’re still there. In his world of violence and chaos, emotions are a liability and can get you killed.

“You make me lose control,” he continues, his voice betraying a subtle vulnerability. “It scares the hell out of me, but at the same time, I can’t stay away from you. Not now, not after I’ve finally touched you. Not after I’ve tasted you and experienced how good you feel inside.”

His words seep deep into my soul as his actions start to make sense.

“I don’t know how to be gentle, Lyla. I don’t know how to be good like you are. I only know how to conquer and destroy, take what I want and give nothing in return. This is how I was raised, to be the boss of the Vanetti family. To show mercy to no one and to rule with fear.”

The weight of his confession hangs in the air, but I appreciate his raw honesty—something he’s giving me because he believes I’m asleep.

Before coming here, I’d only seen Marco a few times, but his reputation in this city is widely known. At first blush, he appears like the other high-society elites, with his fine clothes, luxury cars, and extravagant home. I’ve seen the tattoos he hides beneath his bespoke suits, and a careful examination of his hands reveals the scars I’m sure he’s earned from establishing his authority with his fists.

He stops pacing for a moment and I sense him looking down at me. “I’m not a good man, and I’ve never claimed to be. Ilikethe pain I inflict on others. When I saw what I did…” Everything is quiet except for the hushed sound of his feet as he crosses the room to the window. As if he can’t look at me. “I’ve done a lot of fucked-up shit in this life, but I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to be that rough with you. When I saw… Fuck,” he draws out, his tone now filled with disgust.

Is that why he left? Because he thinks he hurt mephysically?

Blood whooshes in my ears while my mind races with his revelation. Yes, he was rough with me, and now my body is deliciously sore. He’sbeenrough with me since the moment he dragged me out of my home. Nothing we’ve done has been soft and gentle, but I never expected that from a man like him. I’ve had soft and gentle before and it left me unsatisfied and longing for something different.

There’s a reason my desire runs so deep for Marco, despite our age difference and his ruthless lifestyle. Our worlds are contrasting, but now they’ve collided, giving me a glimpse that further intrigues me. I should be running away from him—as far away as I can—but I can’t deny what I feel for him, how much I enjoy it when he uses my body.

I’m lost in my thoughts when his smooth, baritone timbre draws my attention. “After I saw the bruises, the red marks, the swelling… it was like I couldn’t breathe. I’m a cold bastard, Lyla, but I’d never hurt you. Not like that. I couldn’t get enough of you—couldn’t get deep enough inside you—desperate to claim every inch of your body.”

He’s quiet again. Then, after a few moments, I hear him striding toward me.

“I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you.” His voice is no more than a whisper, but his words flood my body with relief.

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