Page 21 of Obsession of the Bratva

The room felt smaller now, as if the space between us was almost nonexistent. His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth and then immediately returned to my eyes. My pulse jumped. Traitorous thing.

“Nico.”

“What?”

“You need to let me go.”

For a second, something flickered across his face, but then disappeared. And when he spoke again, his voice was colder than anything I had ever heard from him.

“No.”

The word settled between us. Final and absolute.

“No?” I repeated.

“No.”

“You don’t mean that.”

His laugh was quiet. Dangerous.

“Oh, but I do, my love.”

I stared at him, trying to find the man I used to know. The man who called me my love out of affection rather than out of sarcasm. Trying to find the person who had once spent three hours helping me rescue a terrified puppy from underneath a collapsed fence at an animal shelter. The man who had asked me on a date while covered in dog hair. The man who had smiled when I accidentally called him an idiot on our first meeting. The man who had kissed me in the parking lot afterward.

The man I loved.

He had disappeared. And for the first time since arriving here, genuine fear settled in my chest. Because I suddenly realized that Nico wasn’t doing this because he wanted me back. He wasn’t doing this because he missed me. He wasn’t doing this because he still loved me. He was doing it because he wanted me to suffer, and somehow that was far more dangerous.

“You want revenge.”

His gaze remained steady. “Yes.”

The honesty surprised me, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Nico had never been a liar. Not even now. I swallowed.

“And then what?”

Finally, he stepped forward, the movement forcing me backward until my spine hit the edge of the dresser. The impact startled me. Nico stopped immediately in front of me, closer than I had expected him to come. Heat radiated between us, filled with anger, history, and attraction all tangled together.

“You told me our relationship was a lie.” His voice was low and controlled. “But now you want me to let the anger go after you told me I meant nothing to you and that you never loved me.”

Every sentence landed harder than the last. I could barely breathe. Not because of fear but because of him. Because despite everything, standing this close still felt dangerous in all the wrong ways. His hand landed beside my head. He was not touching me, just trapping me there. The movement sent electricity through my entire body, and his eyes darkened instantly.

He felt it too. I knew he did. The realization made everything worse. Because if he still wanted me, there was hope. If he still hated me, there was hope. But wanting me and hating me simultaneously? That was a disaster.

“Nico...” My voice came out softer than intended.

His gaze dropped to my mouth again, and the room suddenly felt very quiet. Very small. Very hot. And for one impossible second, I thought he might kiss me. The same realization flashed across his face, and then he stepped back immediately. Like touching me had burned him. The distance felt wrong, and I hated that too.

“You don’t get to say my name like that.”

His voice was rough now. More human.

I swallowed. “Nico—”

“No. You don’t get to decide when this ends and what I need to do.”

He brushed a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.