Page 57 of Darkest Oblivion
Curiosity pulled me closer, and I peered inside, my breath catching.
Dmitri stood, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned, a vivid red lipstick stain smeared across his neck.
He scrubbed at the stain with a handkerchief, his movements almost frantic, the feminine scent—jasmine and vanilla, not his sandalwood—hitting me like a slap.
My anger flared, my heart racing. “So how do you explain this?” I stormed in, my voice shaking, searching the room—bookshelves, leather couch, velvet curtains—for her.
“It was hickeys last time, lipstick now?” My voice cracked into a scream. “Where is she? Where the fuck is Seraphina?”
He froze, his icy blue eyes snapping to mine, his jaw tightening.
“Get out,” he commanded, his voice dangerous, still wiping the lipstick, its thick red infuriating me.
“Oh, really?” I snapped, my hands clenching. “Just admit you’re cheating.”
He paused, his gaze piercing.
“If I was fucking a woman here, you think I’d hide her?” Dmitri’s voice cut like glass. “Who do you think you are,Penelope? A wife in name only. Don’t delude yourself—we’re not lovers. I despise you. Intensely.”
He leaned back, eyes glinting with mockery. “Now, get the fuck out of my office.”
The words ripped through me, slicing deeper than I’d ever admit. My heart splintered, but I forced my face into stone, pretending it was nothing.
“Admit it,” I shot back, my voice trembling but rising with fury. “Or are you scared I’ll expose you? Maybe cheating breaks your precious traditions, and you don’t want to get into trouble.” My chest ached with every word, fear laced into the anger—fear of the truth I already suspected.
He hurled the handkerchief to the floor, the red smear glaring against the marble like an accusation.
“I’ve said it once—believe me or don’t.”
“What did you say?” I shot back, my pulse hammering, the hidden device in my pocket burning like sin. “That you don’t cheat? Sorry, I can’t believe a damn word out of a mafia man’s mouth. You kill like it’s breathing, you lie to seal deals, and you expect me to swallow this?”
I scoffed, the sound breaking painfully. “Hours ago, you called me beautiful. Then you spit out how much you hate me. And I’m supposed to believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?”
A jagged laugh tore from me. “I’ll never be your slim, graceful, desired Seraphina, will I? Everyone calls me a whale—I’m learning to live with it. But at least give me the truth. You’re fucking her, aren’t you? It would make sense—you can’t have your way with me, so you take her instead.”
He surged forward, closing the space in a breath, his shadow swallowing me whole.
His eyes blazed, not with love, but with something darker—obsession, possession.
“You think I’d touch another woman when I have this?” His voice dropped to a growl, vibrating through me. “You have a body worth worshiping, Penelope.”
My breath hitched, my body warm, betraying me again, the device in my pocket a reminder of my choice—loyalty or freedom, Dmitri or the Bellantis.
Dmitri stepped closer, his icy blue eyes blazing, the sharp lines of his tailored suit only magnifying the danger radiating off him.
“You think your body makes you less than beautiful?” His voice was low, cutting, almost daring me.
“And because I’m... imperfect. Stretch marks, curves in the wrong places,” I snapped, my voice trembling, anger tangled with the old wounds his taunts had carved open.
My chest heaved. “Don’t lie to me. You just want me to forget everything and submit, don’t you?”
In a single, fluid motion he closed the distance, lifting me as though I weighed nothing.
His arms were unyielding, yet careful, lowering me on the edge of his mahogany desk, the polished wood cool beneath me, the scent of his cologne and leather-bound books thick in the air.
“I was wrong to shame you,” he said at last, his voice raw, stripped of its usual steel.
His gaze locked onto mine, searing, searching for something.
