Page 110 of The Art of Obsession
I lean forward, planting my hands on the table. The metal groans under the weight of my grip. “You’re lying. You must know radar and flight plans.”
“I’m not! Please, I don’t know! He gave me some kind of memory-altering drug. Then sent me on my way. I really don’t know.”
I straighten, my patience wearing thin. “You don’t have to know,” I say coldly. “You just have to remember.”
I nod to Klaus, who steps forward and slams a folder onto the table. Inside are images of the plane, the fuel logs, the cargo manifest. Every detail I’ve been able to scrape together.
For the best measure, I inject truth serum into his veins, ensuring he can’t lie.
“Think carefully,” I warn. “Because if you don’t, I’ll start breaking things. And I won’t stop until I’m convinced you’ve told me everything.”
The pilot’s resolve crumbles. His breathing quickens, and he blurts out, “It was an island! Somewhere south—private, secluded. Dorian said no one would find it.”
My chest tightens, my mind racing. South. Private. Isolated.
I snap his two front fingers, reveling in his howl before he spurts, “Caribbean! St. Vincent and the Grenadines! That’s all I know.”
I step back, my fists clenched. “You’d better pray you’re right,” I growl. “Because if I find out you lied to me, you won’t be able to fly so much as a paper plane when I’m done with you.”
The pilot whimpers, but I’m already walking away, my thoughts consumed by one thing:her.
I’m coming, Little Quill.
The words echo in my mind, a mantra, a promise, a vow. I’ve called her that since the beginning—my Little Quill, sharp and delicate, capable of drawing blood or beauty. And I will fuckingfight for her even if I must fight through all nine circles of hell to get her back.
48
“Acheron is not the only one who will punish you.”
Chapter Playlist:
“The Lovers” – Nine Inch Nails
“Haunting” - Halsey
EVERLEIGH
Dinner feels like a slow,torturous death.
The food is exquisite, the wine flows freely, and Dorian’s charm is suffocating. Every word he says is polished to perfection, every smile calculated. The pleasantries rot my stomach lining, but I force myself to endure it.
Afterward, Dorian suggests a walk along the beach. The moonlight glows over the sand, and the gentle crash of the waves would be soothing if I weren’t walking besidehim.
“Isn’t this better?” he asks, his tone soft and almost genuine. “The open air, the sea. It’s freedom, Everleigh.”
I stop walking, the weight of his words pressing on me. “Freedom?” I repeat, my voice tight. “I don’t know if I can ever feel free. Acheron will come for me. He will never stop.”
Dorian’s expression darkens before smoothing into a placid mask. “He cannot touch you here. I’ll protect you.”
“I don’t know if I can ever feel protected or safe again…” I murmur, looking down.
“It will take time to heal. I will do whatever I can to aid in that process,” he says soberingly.
I look up, facing him, my hand instinctively moving to my stomach. “I’m pregnant,” I say, the words heavy and raw. “With his child. He won’t stop until he finds me. Until he findsus.”
Dorian hesitates, his jaw tightening as if to restrain himself. Then, a slow, unsettling smile spreads across his face. “Acheron isn’t the only one prone to obsession, Everleigh.”
Suspicion gnaws on me, and I take a step back. “What does that mean?”
