Page 61 of Savage Obsession

“You swore on your life,” I say evenly, “the first time you told me you didn’t know anything.”

His eyes widen in horror as he realizes his mistake.

Before he can beg, I raise the shears and bury them deep into his throat.

The sound is wet and sickening.

His body jerks violently, a gurgling noise escaping his lips before he slumps forward in the chair, dark crimson spilling down his chest and pooling onto the floor.

Blood splatters onto my forearm. I don’t flinch.

Leon sighs, clicking his tongue. "Well. That was educational."

I grab a clean cloth from the table and wipe my hands, my mind already shifting focus.

"Burn the body," I order. "No trace."

Leon signals to the men waiting outside. They move swiftly, dragging the corpse away while I turn toward the door, already reaching for my phone.

Orestes.

I suspected his loyalty had been wavering for months.

But now, I have proof.

And in my world, there is only one way to deal with betrayal.

28

Yelena

I hear the door click open before I see him. My body moves on instinct, pushing up from the couch as I turn toward the entrance. Aithan steps inside, his movements deliberate, his suit jacket draped over his forearm, his white dress shirt rolled up to the elbows. His presence alone dominates the space, filling every inch of the penthouse with an unspoken authority.

The sight of him after a long day sends a strange warmth through my chest, and before I can overthink it, I close the distance between us.

"Welcome home," I say softly, reaching up to embrace him.

His hand comes up, stopping me mid-motion. "Don’t," he murmurs, his voice rough, edged with something unreadable.

I freeze, my arms falling limply to my sides. A sting pricks beneath my ribs.

He doesn’t want me to welcome him?

Aithan must have seen the flicker of hurt flash across my face because he exhales sharply and reaches for me, but I step back, my expression carefully neutral. “Forget it,” I say lightly, turning on my heel before he can say anything else.

But I don’t get far.

Aithan follows, his steps unhurried but purposeful. Before I can disappear down the hall, his fingers wrap around my wrist, tugging me to a stop. His grip isn’t forceful, but it’s unyielding.

“Yelena,” he says, his voice quieter now, coaxing. “I need to shower first.”

I glance over my shoulder, arching a brow. “Before I can touch you?”

His jaw flexes. “I need to wash the grime off.” There’s a darkness in his gaze, something restrained but potent. “It’s been a long night.”

I stare at him, trying to read between the lines. “Grime?”

Aithan holds my gaze for a beat before sighing, rubbing the back of his neck. “I finally got hold of the moles in the council,” he says, his voice low. “The process of extracting the information was… messy.”

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