Page 75 of His Obsession
The room is upstairs. I can tell from the height of the window and the tops of the trees outside. The property is overgrown. Not abandoned-abandoned, because someone put clean sheets on the bed and dragged me inside, but not lived in either. No neighbors close enough to hear me scream. No foot traffic. No house staff moving around in the hallway.
That last detail bothers me. Adrian should have people. He always had people. Drivers, guards, assistants, men who said yes too quickly and never looked at bruises too long. In New York, he never moved alone if he could help it. His family had money, connections, favors owed, and all the ugly little protections that came with them.
This place doesn’t feel like that. It feels improvised.
The thought should comfort me. It doesn’t. Adrian backed by his family was dangerous because he had resources. Adrian alone is dangerous because there’s no one left to tell him he’s going too far.
Just as I’m thinking this, I hear the lock turn. I step back so fast I nearly trip over the edge of the rug. The door opens and Adrian walks in carrying a bottle of water and a protein bar. His coat is gone now and his shirt wrinkled. A dark bruise is forming near the corner of his mouth where I must have caught him harder than I realized, and the scratches on his cheek are red and angry under the dim light.
I hope they leave a nasty scar.
He closes the door behind him and slips the key into his pocket.
“You’re awake,” he says.
I look at the water in his hand. “And you’re running a bed-and-breakfast from hell. Look at both of us branching out.”
His mouth tightens. He doesn’t like that. He never liked it when I was sarcastic, especially at his expense.
“You should drink something.”
“What did you do with Gia?” I counter.
“She’s alive.” He shrugs. “At least I think she is. She wasn’t my main concern.”
That’s some comfort, at least. Gia isn’t here, so that’s one less thing to worry about.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He laughs humorlessly. “What the hell do you think I’m doing here? I’m here to take you home.”
“I am home,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You only think that because of your meddling brother and your shiny new boy toy. This place is a cesspool that deserves to be burned to the ground. You’re supposed to be back in the sophistication of the New York elite.”
“I’m not going with you.”
His eyes flick to my stomach.
It’s quick, but I catch it. Interest. Calculation. Something uglier than both. My hand moves to my stomach without permission, and I hate that too, because he notices.
“So, it’s true,” he says. “You’re really knocked up.”
I take one step back before I can stop myself. “Don’t.”
“Is it his?”
The question is so absurd that for a second I just stare at him. “Are you serious?”
His jaw tightens. “Answer me.”
His expression goes cold. The old kind of cold. The one that used to tell me exactly how much trouble I was in before he ever raised his voice.
“Yes, the baby is Sebastian’s,” I say. “And I promise you, if you hurt either of us, there is nowhere you can run where he won’t find you.”
Adrian steps closer. “You think he’s coming for you?”
“I know he is.”
