Page 80 of Savage Obsession

“And you’re the owner of this insane man,” I murmur, tightening my hold on her. “Now, do you want a tour, or are you planning to argue about my real estate decisions?”

She huffs but lets me lead her down the dock, through a stone pathway lined with palm trees, until we reach the villa. It’s modern, sleek—floor-to-ceiling windows, open spaces, the kind of place where the outside and inside melt together. I designed it with her in mind.

Yelena walks through the entrance, trailing her fingers along the walls, across the countertop in the open kitchen. When she steps onto the back terrace, she stops in her tracks. The infinity pool spills into the ocean, the sun melting into the horizon, staining the sky in hues of gold and crimson.

A moment passes. Then another.

And then she whispers, “It’s perfect.”

I slip a hand into my pocket, fingers grazing the velvet box inside.

Now or never, Aithan.

Yelena

The air is thick with the scent of salt and sun-warmed sand. My heart is still racing from Aithan’s revelation—an entire island? A whole stretch of land and sky, just for us?

And yet, something in his demeanor tells me he’s not done. There’s something else. Something heavier.

He stands before me, his pewter-gold eyes sharp, unreadable, as the wind tousles his hair. The setting sun paints him in firelight, and for a moment, I don’t recognize him—not the ruthless mafia boss, not the cold-blooded man who terrifies his enemies. This is someone else. This is just… Aithan.

Then he drops to one knee.

My breath catches. My fingers instinctively fly to my mouth as his hand moves to his pocket, pulling out a small black velvet box.

“Yelena Makarov.” His voice is low, steady, but I hear the edge of something raw in it. Something real. “I didn’t think I’d ever love again. Didn’t think I’d let myself. But you—” He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “You ruined that plan. You ripped through me like wildfire, set my whole world ablaze. And now I can’t imagine life without you.”

My pulse is erratic, my knees weak. I was not expecting this.

Aithan flips open the box, revealing a ring—a diamond so large, it could probably be seen from space. It glints in the golden light, catching every facet, every shimmer of the setting sun.

“I know we started all this for power, for an alliance, for reasons that had nothing to do with love. But that’s not what this is anymore.” His gaze locks onto mine, and it’s so fierce, so completely open, that it shatters something inside me. “Marry me. Not because of duty, not because of an arrangement. Marry me because you’re mine. Because I’m yours. And because I love you”

I try to speak, but my throat closes. The weight of it—the finality of it—makes my chest ache. I’ve always told myself that I don’t need love, that I don’t want the vulnerability that comes with it. But standing here, with this man, on this island that he bought for us, I realize something devastatingly simple.

I love him. More than life itself.

A tear slips down my cheek. I try to blink it away, try to find words, but my mouth is useless.

Aithan’s jaw ticks. “Yelena?”

I manage to croak, “Yes.”

His eyes flash. “Yes?”

A breathless laugh escapes me as I nod rapidly. “Yes, you idiot. Yes!”

He moves so fast, I barely register it before I’m in his arms, my feet leaving the ground, my hands tangling in his hair. His lips crash into mine, fierce, desperate, claiming. And I let him. I let him take me apart, let him own me in the way he always has.

Aithan carries me inside to a luxurious bedroom. He sets me down in the middle of the room and just stands there looking at me, as if I am the only precious object on the whole planet.

With deliberate slowness, Aithan begins to undress me, his fingers deft and gentle. He starts with the delicate straps of my gown, sliding them off my shoulders, baring my skin inch by inch. The cool air raises goosebumps on my arms, but his touch is like fire, warming me from within. He takes his time, savoring each moment, his eyes never leaving my face, as if seeking permission, ensuring my comfort.

As the gown pools around my waist, he pauses, his fingers tracing the curve of my collarbone, then dipping lower to follow the swell of my breasts.

“You’re so beautiful, Yelena.” he whispers, his thumb brushing my nipple, already pebbled with anticipation.

“Aithan, please…” I beg, my voice thick with need.

---