VICIOUS OBSESSION

na's

document with a gun pressed to his temple. This wasn't how I had imagined the night before my wedding-

the sound of a promise. It was a signal of something far more sinister. My heart poun

was suffocating, his dark eyes cold and calculating. Every in

exander Grey-the name that everyone whispered in fear. A mafia kingpin who had no mercy. His reputa

what was happening. Ho

iancé's handshake. His eyes met mine-full of desperation, and regret-and for

ing. I kicked and twisted, struggling with everything I had, but they we

ied, but they did

ld get a proper look at it or figure out who they were, one of t

houted, but no one answered. M

an their hand

te for any sign of help, but soon their voices faded into silence. All I could hear was the

as taped shut, my hands tied behind my back. Fear course

forward as I stumbled to keep up. My legs felt like jelly. When we ent

ion?-was enormous and eerily silent, but that wasn't the most alarming part. Armed men stood at every

, trying to pull away again, but it was pointless.

men instantly released me, and I stumbled forward, almost falling. I l

esence exuding authority. His sharp features and piercing eyes might have been attractive in any other

e with my family, preparing for the happiest day of my

deliberate, his aura radiating power. Everyone

or a moment, studying me like I was som

fury. Without warning, he smashed the glass in his hand to the floor. The

of the men stammered,

reached out and untied the cloth that boun

"Why am I here? What do you want from me

who had brought me here. "Get out," he ordered, his tone leaving n

st happened. Why did he care if they hurt me? Wh

in, his expression unreadable. "You're safe

could I feel safe in a place l

be here. Tomorrowismywedding. I need to go home." My eyes searched his

lea. "Don't say that," he said, his voice calm but firm, the kind of tone

e like a blade. "What do you mean?"

k. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tensi

imply as if it were the most

at he meant. "Yours?" I repeated, my voice risi

ng chills down my spine. "You don't

ake- horrible, twisted mistake. "You can't just... take someone," I stammered, my he

e was intense like he was looking straight through me. "You're not an object," he said, his tone softer now,

I said, shaking my head. "You can't do this.

told me he was in control and knew it. "Your family won't find yo

he edge of the couch, maybe stopped, cornered. "Why are

d I couldn't stop thinking about you," he admitted, his voice low but steady. "I don't

hat's not love," I said, my voice shaking with a mix of f

, surprising me with hi

en obeyed his every word without question, in the way he spoke as if th

d through gritted teeth, trying to keep my voi

ng onto mine. "Tomorrow was never going to be your wedding," he said softly

look away. I refused to give him the satisfacti

erything I knew. And yet, I couldn't shake t