Page 86 of Distorted Obsession

“I’ll sign,” she announces, grabbing my Fulgor Nocturnus fountain pen designed by Tibaldi. I smirk at my choice of my favorite pens—because you need top-quality items when you’re ruining someone’s existence. Eva signs, and then her slumped shoulders rise, and the inner turmoil readily visible on her face dissolves. In its place is her assured and serene demeanor. She’s locked the scared part of her away.

I’ll let it slide for now, but soon enough, fear will be all she knows except for in our arms. Until then, we will ruin everything that is Eva Rose Pierce.

34

liam

It’s beentwo weeks since that debutant debacle, and I’m happy to be as far away from Lillian Langston as I can. In fact, I’m not far enough yet.

The Langston family is toxic, but their prized princess is the queen of toxicity. Lilly is a rude, elitist snob who believes she’s beyond reproach.

The scene she made once Mason informed her he wouldn’t be dating, much less proposing to or marrying her with someone else’s body, was a comical calamity. Lillian made such a ruckus, smashing crystal wine glasses and flipping over tables. I can still see the scene play out.

“What the fuck do you mean you’re not going to honor the marriage contract,” Lillian seethes, her face blooming red with anger. “You should be grateful that I’m willing to marry into your failure of a family. The Bradleys are a sinking ship that the Langstons are willing to throw a life raft to, and you have the audacity to spit in the face of our charity.”

I grit my teeth at the memory of her vitriolic attack. Mase was kind enough to wait until after the ball, playing the perfect puppet date—a Black Ken doll. However, his discomfort wasembedded in a code that only I could decipher. But all bets were off once she tried to wield her arrogance like a Mameluke sword.

“Lillian, I don’t have feelings for you,” Mase proclaims, still trying to soften the rejection.This is where he fucked up. Lillian’s been in love with Mase since she knew what her version of love was. Combine that with the fact that I don’t actually believe ‘no’ has ever been said to her.

Rule One:Don’t give a delusional person a speck of opportunity that hints as though they still have a fighting chance.

“We shouldn’t put on a charade. I’m certain you don’t want to be in a loveless or one-sided love marriage.”

If fire could burst from her ears, it would’ve happened at that very moment. Apparently, being considerate was a terrible way to approach the situation.

“I don’t give a fuck about whether you love me or not, Mason Bradley. Our marriage was announced tonight, and you won’t embarrass me by backing out.” Lillian’s glare could rival every villain in history. “You will marry me this summer,” she declares. “There is no other option—no escape clause—no reneging. My parents have already signed the contract that will save Fort Mose Whiskey, so you’re my bitch until I say otherwise.”

Rule Two:Taking one for the team doesn’t mean becoming a martyr.

That was the rebuke that sent Mase over the edge, no longer worrying about toeing the line of respectability for propriety’s sake.

“Contrary to what you believe, Lillian,” Mase hisses, “I don’t actually move at your command. You could buy all the shares of Fort Mose, and I still wouldn’t kowtow to you because you’re a venomous, vindictive, shallow waste of human skin inhabiting the Earth.”

The look on her face after Mase began to read her was and still is priceless. Not enough people understand that my brother is nice until he’s not, and then all bets are off.

“How dare y?—”

“How dare I?” Mason cuts in, refusing to give this swamp feeder a chance. “You walked in here like I would just bend to your will because Mommy and Daddy bought me like some piece of meat—like I’m on some Auction Block in Fredericksburg.”

Lillian’s jaw nearly hits the floor as he continues to slice into her, and I sit back, refusing to hide my glee at her stupidity, laying her at Mason’s feet.

“I was trying to spare your feelings, but it’s obvious that you don’t respond to reasoning that doesn’t match your bratty wants. So, let me make this perfectly clear. I, Mason Landon Bradley, will and would never date, propose, or marry you with someone else’s body, much less my own. You and your family are the definitions of the stuck-up Southern Black aristocracy that makes me literally ill because you snub your nose at anyone that doesn’t fit your mold of what it is to be the Black Elite.”

Rule Three:Never argue with someone who’s obviously lost touch with reality. It’s a waste of a breath you’ll wish you had at the end of your life.

Knowing what would happen next if I didn’t get him away from her, I quickly talked my brother down. While I was more than happy to see Lillian being torn into pieces, it was imperative to remember that our family was in talks with the Langstons to help save Fort Mose.

“How was class?” Mason questions, appearing out of nowhere, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.

“Walk like a serial killer much?” I taunt.

Smirking, he retorts, “Zone out like you’re half-baked much?” I huff out a laugh and wait for him to continue. It’s obvious this isn’t just a “hey, brother. I’m just checking in” conversation.

“Now, how was your day?”

I roll my eyes but answer, “Classes were fine. Eva’s still avoiding me like I have the plague.”

Mason sits in the chair across from me. “What’s that all about? One minute you’re fuck buddies and now she dodges you at every chance she’s given. I thought you apologized and things were smoothed out?”

---