Page 39 of Savage Obsession

Her lips part as if she wants to argue, but she knows better. I have spent decades caving and shaping my own little empire, making calculated moves that have put me in a position of power. I will not let a twenty-three-year-old brat with a pretty face undo everything I have built.

I grab another glass, pour myself another drink, and take a slow sip. “You both disgust me. Get out.”

My wife hesitates, but one look from me and she scurries away like the pathetic woman she is. Bella lingers for a moment, staring at me as if she no longer recognizes the father who raised her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I say, my voice void of any warmth. “This is the world we live in, Bella. You failed to claim Aithan. Now, I will have to initiate Plan B.”

A sick satisfaction washes over me as I watch the flicker of horror in my daughter’s eyes.

Let the games begin.

The past is never truly buried. It lingers beneath the surface, woven into the fabric of time, waiting for the moment to claw its way back into the present.

As I settle into my chair, the remnants of my fury still burning in my chest, my mind drifts back—back to the day I orchestrated the fall of Aithan Vasilios’ first family.

It had been too easy.

Back then, Aithan was young, ambitious—but dangerously reckless. His devotion to his wife and son was his greatest weakness, a blind spot I could not ignore. He believed himself untouchable, that love made him invincible.

I proved him wrong.

I remember the day I pulled the strings. I sat in this very office, sipping a fine scotch as I issued the order to eliminate his wife and child. They weren’t just obstacles; they were liabilities to my grander scheme.

Aithan, in his naivety, had been too distracted with a smuggling run, leaving his precious little family vulnerable. It only took a few well-placed calls, a whisper in the right ear, and a hand guiding fate in my favor.

I arranged for the accident like an artist setting up his canvas. The drunk driver—an expendable pawn—had been drugged, his veins pumping with enough narcotics to ensure he wouldn’t remember a damn thing. I had made sure of that.

A tragic accident. A collision at high speed. A bloodied wreck on the asphalt.

Aithan’s wife, and child had died on impact.

By the time Aithan had returned, desperate, broken, and grieving, I was already three steps ahead. He had stormed into the scene like a beast unchained, his roars of agony echoing through the night. And when he found the driver—a pathetic, dazed fool who barely knew his own name—he did exactly what I wanted him to.

He killed him.

Tore him apart like a savage.

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

He did the job for me, cleaning up the mess before it could lead back to me. And when the blood had dried and his hands werestained with murder, he was left with nothing but the hollow pain of loss.

I had won.

I sip my whiskey, the taste rich and familiar. The memory is not a burden; it is a triumph. I built the foundation of my power on that day. It was supposed to be the beginning of my daughter's reign—her ascent as Aithan's queen.

But Bella failed me.

Instead of securing her place beside him, she had wasted years tangled in his sheets like a fucking whore. Mistaking lust for love.

What a fool. Like mother, like daughter indeed.

A bitter chuckle escapes me. For one to rise, another must fall. That is the law of this world. Aithan had suffered his loss, and I had expected him to kneel—to realize that he needed Bella, that she was his salvation.

But he hadn't.

And now, history was repeating itself.

I run my fingers over the cold glass of my tumbler, my mind churning. Aithan has a new wife now—a Russian princess whosemere existence has greatly tipped the balance I have so carefully maintained.

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