Page 14 of Sweet Obsession

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One earring.

Two.

Delicate amethyst drops with gold filigree, too pretty for a girl like me. I didn’t make jewelry to wear it. I made it to survive.

After twenty minutes, the tension in my jaw eased. A little.

I stood and padded to the bathroom, brushing my teeth without turning on the lights. I didn’t want to see myself in the mirror yet. Didn’t want to face the girl who looked back like she was daring me to flinch.

After a quick shower, I dressed in black jeans and a dark linen shirt I didn’t bother to button to the top. Too many buttons looked like I was trying.

Hair up. Not neat, just functional.

I didn’t do “pretty” in the mornings.

I did prepared.

Before I left the room, I clipped on the earrings I’d just made. A quiet rebellion. No one would notice them but me.

And maybe Gabriela.

And that was enough.

I padded down the stairs, hugging the shadows along the east wing.

Because even in this house full of ghosts and men with guns, the real danger wasn’t outside the walls.

It was the man waiting for my sister.

The man who hadn’t said a word to her all dinner, but had looked at me like I was a fuse begging to be lit.

Misha Petrov.

The reaper in a suit.

I wanted to check on Gabriela. I needed proof that she was still here, that some part of this nightmare was still reversible.

I didn’t make it to her door.

Voices floated from my father’s office.

I slowed, pressing my back against the cold marble wall.

I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

But when you live with wolves, you learn to hear through doors.

“...package deal,” a voice said, rougher than Papa’s, younger.

My heart skipped.

I edged closer, careful not to make the floorboards creak.

“...she’s fiery, sure. But fire can be tamed. The contract’s signed. No going back.”

A sharp clink of glasses. Laughter that didn’t reach the heart.

I peeked around the corner, just in time to see them.

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