Page 138 of Unholy Obsession

Quinn smirks, tilting her head like she’s debating. “Oh, I think they are.” She stands, stepping closer, the scent of expensive perfume curling around me. “Because you,Father, are not a man who gives up control easily. And yet, here you are.”

I don’t flinch. “Are you going to help me or not?”

She lifts a hand, trailing one perfect, red-tipped nail down my chest. Slow, deliberate.

“I could break you,” she murmurs, a whisper of a promise.

I meet her gaze, unflinching. “That’s the point.”

She lets that hang between us. The music pounds, distant, like it belongs to another world—one where I haven’t lost everything. One where Moira still calls me hers.

Then Quinn laughs. A quiet, knowing sound. She steps back, shaking her head.

“No.”

The word slams into me harder than any whip ever could. It lodges deep, where the wounds are still open and bleeding. My body locks up.

“You’re refusing?” My voice is even, but barely. “Why?”

She shrugs. “I don’t play with men looking to run from their pain.”

I exhale through my nose. “That’s not what this is. Iwantthe pain.”

She tilts her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Oh, really? So tell me,Father. Are you here because youlikesubmission?”

I stay silent.

“Are you here because you want toserve?”

My jaw tightens.

“Or are you here because you think if I beat the hell out of you, it’ll erase what’s already been done?”

Something in my chest twists violently. “Don’t act like you know me.”

“Oh, but I do.” She steps closer again, pressing a single, manicured finger to my sternum. “I knowexactlywhat you are. A man who takes. Who dominates. Who breaks others, piece by piece, until they’re nothing but offerings at his altar.”

My teeth clench. I don’t respond.

She leans in, lips just brushing my ear.

“And now? You want someone tobreak you?”

The breath I take is sharp, burning its way down.

“I need to feel something else,” I grind out. “I need to be punished for my sins.”

She pulls back, meeting my gaze again, something knowing in her expression. “No, you want to feelher. You want to replace the pain of losing her with another kind, but you’re not built for that, Father. You don’t bend.”

I clench my fists, every muscle in my body screaming for violence, for anything that isn’t this truth she’s carving into me. “If you won’t do it, I’ll find someone who will.”

Quinn sighs, stepping back. “You could. Plenty of people here would love the chance to put their hands on you.”

She sits again, taking her time crossing her legs and picking up her drink.

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it?” she murmurs. “You don’t wantthem. You want someone who canactually hurt you.” She takes a slow sip, eyes glinting.

Then, with the smallest tilt of her head, she gives the order.

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