Page 12 of Obsession

“Your cousin, Paul, tried to hurt my brother,” Mihir said, his tone sharp. “I don’t forgive anyone who tries to hurt my family or me. Someone has to pay the price for this.”

“But we had nothing to do with any of this,” Andres said, looking anxious. “We didn’t know Paul was working for your cousin. I?—”

Mihir raised a hand, cutting him off. “I don’t care. Someone from your family hurt mine, so now someone from your family has to pay the price. It could be you or your retired brother, Piri, or your nephew, Toomas. He’s studying in Manchester, right? As of now, I have men following both of them. Don’t worry. I will allow you to choose which of them should pay the price for Paul’s actions.”

Andres’ expression turned stormy. Mihir knew how much the man adored his brother and his nephew. Not that Mihir had any intention of hurting either of them, nor did he have his men following them. This was just another bluff.

“I will help you find Paul,” Andres finally said. “None of my family ought to pay a price for that defector. He left us and joined hands with Ivan Oshnov for money. He has no loyalty to us, and so we ought to have none to him. I will find Paul for you. Please, just leave my brother and nephew alone.”

Mihir pretended to consider. The terror on Andres’ face deepened with every second that ticked.

“Alright,” Mihir finally said. “Find Paul and you no longer owe me a debt. And tell everyone you know that I’m looking for Ivan. Whoever comes to me with credible information on Ivan will be paid ten million dollars. Unlike Ivan, I have the fucking money. Now, leave before I change my mind.”

The men returned to their cars. Mihir stood in place, watching them as they disappeared down the road. He quickly instructed Chekov to keep a tab on Andres and returned to the warehouse—and toher.

All through his discussion with the Estonians, he’d prayed hard that Anna would remain hidden. Thankfully, she had. The last thing he wanted was for those men to know she was here. He never wanted anyone to think of her as a weakness—a tool to get to him. He hurried through the crates to the place he had left her last. She wasn’t there. Bloody hell.

Fear exploded in his chest. So many worst-case scenarios filled his mind. He quickly called Anton, hoping the security guard was following her.

“Where is she?” Mihir barked.

“She left five minutes back. I’m following her, sir,” the man replied. “We are on the highway, heading back to Dubai.”

Relief flooded his chest. “Ensure she reaches safely and message me when she’s home.”

Mihir disconnected the call and pocketed his phone, his mind all over the place. He started his car and took off for his own home, his mind still on her.

Wild, tempestuous, and passionate, Ananya Mehra had always been a force to reckon with. Why had he expected that time would have mellowed her down? It hadn’t. In fact, she was bolder, braver, and more daring than ever. She was also still very beautiful and so damn graceful in the way she talked and moved. However, she still had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. He had warned her to stay put, that these people he was meeting with were dangerous, but as always, she cared nothing about danger. She had gone and left without a concern for her own well-being.

He rubbed the scar on his face. Seven years ago, Anna had been super aware of who she was and of her place and station in life. Now, she exuded even greater confidence. Like she owned the world and everyone and everything in it. Her arrogance and haughtiness irritated him the most now. She’d never shown any remorse for her actions from the past. In fact, she pretended to be clueless. As if she hadn’t sent him to his death. As if she hadn’t chosen others over him.

He clutched the steering wheel tighter. That night, four years ago, when he’d seen her on board his yacht for the first time in years, it had felt like a punch to his gut. Like time had stood still and he was seeing her for the first time. His dead heart had started beating again. His body had woken up from its self-imposed, emotionless exile, and he’d started to feel, to crave, to need, and to want a woman again. Not just any woman.Her. Anna.

Hiswife.

He’d married her all those years ago on a whim, on an instinct that she was the one for him. That she was his forever. His one and only. But she’d turned out to be this two-faced, awful woman who had never loved him. Who hadn’t chosen him when it had mattered the most. Instead, she’d…

He swallowed against the knot in his throat. Knowing all this, he had no business reacting to her nearness the way he had in the warehouse. Fuck, he was such an idiot.

He pressed his foot down on the accelerator. His beautiful car responded to his sullen mood, flying down the highway. His heart sped along with it.

Even now, the memory of how her body had been pressed against his sent a jolt of arousal through him. He didn’t even like her. He’d told himself that he hated her, and yet his body had refused to concur with that dictate. Her provocative words had only added to his intense reaction to her.

I remember all the ways to make you tremble. I remember all the ways to make you…beg.

Fuck. He did remember each and every way she had made him beg at one time. That box of old memories he usually kept tightly locked had burst open at those words. His mind had been stormed with images of him and her tangled together in bed, against the wall, in his shower... Anna on her knees.

He breathed hard, controlling his raging emotions. Ananya Mehra was dangerous, and he ought to stay far away from her. He ought to simply give her the divorce she wanted and get her out of his life once and for all. His brothers were in love with her sisters. Her elder brother was now one of his closest friends. Knowing Anna, she would probably go to town announcing their marriage to all, just to prove a point to him. And that would be a disaster of epic proportions. Although, why she hadn’t done it yet was still a mystery.

For years, he’d lived in the hope that one day, he’d make her pay for what she’d done to him. He’d come out of that incident scarred and changed. Till date, he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror because of that hateful scar. Thanks to the fire he’d been engulfed in, he couldn’t take very hot showers. Hell, he couldn’t even look into the flames of a fireplace for too long. He’d lost all his innocence that night and became a cold, ruthless man, whose only mission in life had been to succeed, and at some point, take revenge from her.

Meeting Anna on the yacht that night had been a disaster. He had reacted badly to seeing her. He hadn’t wanted to let her go. The urge to keep her, to lock her away until she accepted what she had done to him had stormed through him. He’d wanted to see her tears. He’d wanted to break her confidence. He’d wanted to see her beg for his forgiveness.

Yet, in complete contrast to that, had been his need to claim her as his own once again. To prove to himself that he could make her want him and only him. If she hadn’t run away that night…

He blinked, focusing on the road ahead. He’d held Navya and Sheena back that night, hoping she’d return. If he was being rational, though, it was a good thing she hadn’t. His reaction to her that night had been wrong. Him wanting to keep her had been wrong. But he’d learnt his lesson. Unable to trust himself around her, he’d never sought her out and had left her alone since then.

After their families had gotten close, he’d decided that the best revenge would be to stay married to her, to never let her be free of him. When he had not been able to move on, why should she? In the ensuing years, he hadn’t seen her go out with anyone or have a relationship to actually threaten her with their marriage vows. Hence, their sham of a marriage had continued without either of them addressing it. And while he still wanted revenge from her, she was right—he couldn’t do it at the cost of all the people they both cared for.

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