Page 30 of Savage Obsession

I stiffen. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

I push at his chest, but he doesn’t budge. His pewter-gold eyes lock onto mine, and a slow smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, as if daring me to argue.

“Aithan, I am not—”

“You are.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “You are my wife, and I will not have you sleeping in a separate room like we’re strangers. Not after this.”

I scowl at him. “This—” I gesture between us, still too raw to even say it out loud, “—changes nothing.”

His expression shifts, the amusement replaced by something more intense. “It changes everything,agápi mou.”

I shake my head, refusing to let myself believe in whatever twisted logic he’s trying to sell me. “You haven’t even explained the photos.”

He sighs and leans back slightly, rubbing a hand down his face before meeting my gaze again. “Yesterday, I told you Bella was my ex.”

“But you forgot to tell me she was with you yesterday.”

“She came to see me,” he continues, his voice low. “Blocked my way as I was leaving the restaurant. She threw herself at me, told me we could still be together. She said she didn’t care that I was married.”

Something sharp twists in my chest, but I say nothing, letting him speak.

“I told her no. I told her I was married now and that whatever we had was over.” He cups my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks. “I don’t know how those pictures got to you, but I will find out.”

I swallow hard. A part of me wants to believe him. The way he’s looking at me—so damn serious, so raw—it makes me want to trust him.

But then I remember how easily I fell into his arms tonight, how quickly I let my body rule over my mind. I can’t be that weak. I need some sort of distance from him.

“You’re still moving into my room,” he says again, softer this time, but just as firm.

I shake my head. “I—”

“Enough.” His grip on me tightens, but it's not painful. “You’re mine, Yelena. In every sense of the word. And starting from this moment, I will give you no reason to doubt that.”

I exhale sharply, my blood roaring in my ears. “You can’t just make decisions for me.” I protest weakly.

“You’re my wife.”

“That doesn’t mean you own me.”

Aithan studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, his lips curl into something dangerous, something lethal.

“Yes, it does,” he murmurs, brushing his mouth against my temple. “I own you. Your body, soul, and spirit belong to me.And I take care of what’s mine. And you,agápi mou…you are mine.”

I shiver at his words, at the sheer certainty in his tone. He believes it. He believes he owns me, that I belong to him, body and soul.

And the terrifying part?

A small, twisted part of me wants to let him own me in every sense.

16

Aithan

The weight of the morning hangs over me like a fog I can’t shake. I swirl the amber liquid in my glass, the rich scent of scotch rising to my nose as I lean back against my desk. The office is silent, save for the faint hum of traffic from the city below.

Leon sits across from me, arms crossed, a skeptical gleam in his sharp eyes. I know that look. He’s about to say something I don’t want to hear.

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