Page 9 of Dangerous Obsession

“What did you mean, Willow?” he asks again, setting the dye down. I glance at it and change the subject.

“You won’t look good with that color. Black isn’t going to match your skin tone.”

Leo chuckles. “The dye isn’t for me, dumbass. It’s for you. You have to change your appearance. It won’t matter what I look like because they already know who I am and they know what they’re messing with. If you change your appearance and your name, you have a shot at getting away from this safely.”

“No! No way,” I hiss, backing away. I’m not even thirsty anymore. Now I just want to leave. I walk over to the door and try to open it, forgetting he locked it. “I’m not dying my hair and changing my identity.”

“Why not? You did it before.” He watches me, amused by how I tug at the doorknob. “That’s not going to open,” Leo says, dangling the key from a finger. He drops it and it falls back against his chest. “You are going to change your appearance and name because you are going to stay safe. I haven’t spent the past twelve years of my life stalking everything you’ve done just to watch you get yourself killed now.”

My blood runs cold at his confession. “You what?” I ask, my words barely a whisper.

“Get away from the door, Willow.”

“Stop calling me Willow! No one calls me that.” I am angry and I have a right to be. This whole thing is over my head. I just want to go back to my art and for Leo to leave me alone.

“Yeah, I know. You tried to hide from me, change your name and enroll in art school… It didn’t work. I have people.” Leo advances toward me as I move to grab my bag. Everything I even own in life anymore is in this bag, and I need it when I snatch that key from his neck and leave.

“I didn’t do it to hide from you. Your father never gave me a choice.” As the words march off my tongue—tiny soldiers who prepared a mutiny against me—I realize what I’ve done and I cover my mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘my father never gave you a choice?’ “

I turn my back to him, afraid of the wrath that will rain down on me now. Alexsi Gusev is my worst nightmare. Worse than the Italian bastard who tried to rape me. Worse than the idea of living on the street alone. I used to think I knew what fearing him meant, but knowing who he is now—head of the Bratva—now I know what fear means. It’s no wonder Leo sent me away; he feared his father too. A strange sensation of pity and understanding washes over me as I realize Leo did what he did because he was forced to, just like me. But that sensation passes when he forcibly turns me to face him.

“What the hell did you mean by that!” His shout startles me and I whimper and drop my bag.

“He paid me… five million dollars. He told me to leave you alone, and never speak to my father again. He gave me an envelope with a new identity in it. He had already applied and been accepted at Juilliard. I…” I’m lost for words. Things are starting to make sense to me now. Leo never wanted to get rid of me. His father was afraid of mine for some reason. But Leo was a grown man, not a kid. He should have stood up for me, fought for me.

I wrestle my arms out of his grip but he fights me until he has both of them pinned between us, and he backs me against the wall.

“I don’t believe you, Willow.” His body is firm against mine, holding me in place. His breath is hot; deep furrows crease his forehead.

“I’m Reba now….” I can’t breathe. The desire to kick him in the balls and run is so strong, but my heart is warring with my mind. This man wanted me all along, so much so that he followed me for twelve years and watched over me? Who does that? Why?

“You are my Willow. You will always be my Willow, and you are going to do what I say so you can be safe. Do you understand me?” He leaves no room for argument, but I make a sliver of space anyway.

“Fuck you,” I hiss, still fighting him. I can’t give in to him. I can’t be with him. He is dangerous, more so than I ever knew. If he has the resources to follow me around for twelve years day and night, what can’t he do?

“Okay,” he growls before clamping his mouth over mine. I squirm, pushing against his chest and writhing to free myself but he is so strong. His tongue forces my lips open, thrusting into my mouth. I could bite him, but I don’t want to. Don’t get me wrong. I want to bag this guy for being a creep and breaking my heart, but I want him to dominate me in ways I’ve never experienced—ways that I’ve only ever seen in movies or read in books.

Leonid Gusev is walking cocaine, addictive and impossible to give up, even when it destroys you. And I’m here fighting my goddamn heart because even though he’s the biggest asshole I’ve ever met, he’s the only one I’d ever want. He kisses me more forcefully and I can’t protest anymore. I kiss him back, whimpering into his mouth.

I’ve kissed my fair share of guys, but I’ve never been kissed like this. This is not a friendly kiss. This is a kiss from someone that wants to possess me. He’s staking his claim, claiming what is his. I try to push him away but I’m weak, and my body is responding to him like it always has.

I arch into him as he grabs my bottom, lifting me into the air. He carries me to the bed and throws me down, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head. He is a predator, devouring me with his eyes.

"I'm not playing around with you, Willow," he hisses. "I'm going to take you on this bed, and I'm going to make you beg me to stop."

The way he says it is dirty, dark, and laced with a Russian accent that makes it sound even dirtier. I try to free myself but I can't. His arms are too strong.

I never thought I'd ever fuck a mobster.

I never thought I'd ever want to fuck a mobster.

He leans down, his lips against my ear. "You're so damn wet, Willow. I can smell you. Do you know how good it smells to me? Like vanilla and sunshine. You smell like a dream."

I may smell like a dream but I feel like I'm in a nightmare. Why wasn't Leo this way years ago?

"I hate you. You're a stalker and a bastard," I protest, pushing against his hips with my feet but he forces my legs apart and slides between them as he pulls my shirt up over my head. The chill of the air has my nipples hardening, though they were already well on the way. He knows how to turn me on, like he's been in my head.

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