Page 40 of The Art of Obsession
“Look, but don’t touch,” I say, my voice cold and sharp.
Dorian smirks, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Acheron. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“See that you don’t.” My tone leaves no room for argument.
He chuckles, his dark eyes returning to Everleigh. “She’s a natural performer.”
“She’s notperforming,” I growl. “She’s living. Breathing. Being.”
Dorian tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. “And you’re sure she’s not wasted on you?”
I turn to him, my gaze icy. “Careful, Dorian.”
He raises an eyebrow, his smirk lingering.
I turn back to the glass, my possessiveness tightening like a vice around my chest. Everleigh is mine—my creation, my obsession, my Little Quill. And no one, not even Dorian, will come between us.
She’s moved to the vanity now, her fingers wandering across the delicate carvings. Her anger has faded, replaced by awe as she takes in the room. She’s soaking it all in, every detail I painstakingly curated.
Pride swells in my chest. She’s everything I imagined and more, a perfect blend of fire and grace. And now, she’s mine.
17
“How does my exhibit meet with your historian’s eye?”
Chapter Playlist:
“Dark Paradise” – Lana Del Rey
“Clair de Lune” - Debussy
EVERLEIGH
I don’t knowwho I am more enraged at. Acheron or myself, knowing I could never lay a finger on any of these treasured beauties.
My blood boils more than ever! It boils as much as the redness on my ass, the raised welts.
After I set the rocking chair down, I scream through all corners of my mind.Cherry! What do you say now, huh?Because I know she likes a cage as much as me.
After a silent pause, I unleash a high-pitched feminine scream,CHERRY!
WHAT?!She spits out, poking her head from the bathroom, her hair and body wrapped in a towel, her wings still wet and drooping.I was taking a bath, you ninny! And…masturbating to Acheron.
I storm toward her with my hands clenched into violent fists of fury.
She doesn’t even flinch, but she does poke my chest.Oh, come on now, Evie. You can’t deny how swoon-worthy this is. This is a dream come true! An immersive experience.
I’ll immerse you…in boiling water you crazy toad whore.
This is a vintage-wrapped nightmare! I’m having a psychotic breakdown. I need therapy.
Iamyour therapy, honeybun. Don’t act like you’re not a tiny bit impressed by his commitment. That man went all in.
All in on a hostage experience!
Says the girl who’s studying the writing desk in intricate detail, searching for hidden nooks. My chest tightens.
She yawns, patting her mouth.You say hostage situation, I say immersive historical experience. Tomato, tomahto.
