Page 61 of Twisted Obsession
Wife. The word hit me like a cold slap. What did he mean, wife?
“So, I’ve paid my debt,” Andrei continued, his voice a thin veneer of calm while his hands betrayed him, shaking slightly ashe tried to prolong the conversation, giving Nazar time to trace Ivan’s location.
“Not so fast.” Ivan’s voice was laced with arrogance, the kind that made my skin crawl, echoing through Andrei’s phone. “There’s one more thing I need you to do.”
“What’s that? I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me,” Andrei asked, his voice taut with tension.
“Kill Dmitri.”
The line went dead, leaving a chilling silence in its wake.
“I got a location.” Nazar’s voice broke through the tension, his eyes alight with determination as he held up his phone, the screen displaying Ivan’s pinpointed location.
“I’m coming for you, Lara. Hold on,kukolka,” I murmured, the promise of retribution burning in my chest. Once Ivan was in my sights, he would pay the ultimate price.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lara
Ijolted upright in bed, yanked from the suffocating grip of a nightmare that felt all too real. The looming dread of Ivan’s return hung over me like a storm cloud, ready to burst. His façade of tenderness had shattered quickly, revealing the dark reality beneath. He had left me bound, a possession to reclaim, much like Dmitri before him, intent on forcing an heir from me.
I knew the next time Ivan visited, his intentions would be undeniably clear. My resistance had only earned me punishment, a bitter reminder of his control. But fate had intervened, as one of his men had disrupted his vile intentions just in time.
Now, I lay exposed, stripped of dignity and clothing, my wrists and ankles bound, legs spread wide as if I were a sacrificial offering. Hot tears traced paths down my cheeks,mingling with the emerging bruises that painted my skin in shades of blue and purple.
I gingerly ran my tongue over the cut on my lower lip, the metallic taste of blood a reminder of his bite. I had retaliated when he forced his tongue into my mouth, but the victory was hollow.
Why had I removed the tracker? Now Dmitri will never find me.
I tried to push away the thoughts of what awaited me when Ivan returned, clinging to the fragile hope that perhaps he wouldn’t come back. Perhaps the urgent matter that had called him away would keep him occupied indefinitely.
But the ominous clatter of keys echoed from outside the door, signaling Ivan’s return to complete his sinister plans. Yet, despite the terror, a small comfort remained: he would never claim the heir he so desperately desired. The birth control implant beneath my skin would see to that.
As I lifted my head, I noticed Ivan’s approach was different this time. He bypassed the bed with an air of urgency, rushing to the small dresser and hastily pulling out various pieces of clothing.
His movements were tense, filled with frantic energy as he hurried back to me, quickly undoing the restraints around my ankles and wrists, his actions lacking their usual cruel precision.
“Hurry, put these on,” he commanded, tossing the garments in my direction. His eyes flicked nervously from the open door back to me, a sense of urgency in every movement.
The thought of escape flitted briefly through my mind, but I preferred the idea of making a run for it clothed rather than exposed. With swift, practiced motions, I slipped into the plain underwear, feeling the fabric’s cool touch against my skin, and then donned the silk nightgown, its texture smooth and whisper soft.
I considered asking him what was happening and where we were headed, but the words died on my lips. It was futile. I was his prisoner, a captive in a situation not of my choosing, and he had no intention of sharing his plans with me.
His grip was like a vise as he seized my arm, yanking me off the bed and propelling me toward the door. The surroundings were unfamiliar, yet I could tell it was an old, deserted building. Crumbling walls and faded paint suggested it might have once served as an apartment or office building. As he dragged me up the cold, hard concrete steps, I stumbled, causing his grip to falter momentarily.
This was my opportunity. I spun around, desperate to flee, but his hand shot out, fingers tangling painfully in my hair, yanking me back with a force that left strands behind.
“That was a dumb move, Lara,” he hissed, his breath hot and close against my ear, laced with menace.
“Just let me go.” My words were intended as a plea but emerged as a bold demand, my voice edged with defiance.
“My sweet Lara. I’m never letting you go,” he laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that dismissed my request as absurd.
With a firm grip, Ivan maneuvered me up the steps, his body pressed tightly against mine, a constant reminder of hiscontrol. I felt the low rumble of his cell phone vibrating in his pocket, a subtle disturbance in the tense atmosphere.
“What is it?” he barked, irritation dripping from his voice as if the caller were nothing more than an unwelcome interruption.
The voice on the other end was muffled and frantic, its tone conveying urgency even if the words were indistinct. Something significant was unfolding.
