Page 54 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

“No,” I answer immediately, leaving no space for misinterpretation. “And I am not your Bonbon.”

I shake my head once, already stepping back again, already rejecting it before it can wrap around me.

It took me months, years to even get past that night. Even now, it’s not gone. It just… doesn’t scream as loud.

Sometimes, when I’m watching a romance movie, or I pick up a novel thinking I can just enjoy it like before, the thought of what we could have been creeps in.

And it haunts me.

Because of him, I stopped reading my erotica. Stopped my dark romance. I shut that part of myself down completely.

I kept my dark side where it belongs… In the dark.

So no.

I place my hand on the glass door, and it slides open. But I don't cross the threshold yet.

“Wasn’t it enough for you the last time?” I ask, my voice edged, hurting.

He meets my gaze fully, like I didn’t just throw that at him, like he’s been waiting for something exactly like it.

“Bonbon,” he starts, the pet name untouched by everything I tried to put into that question. “I have a large appetite.”

My fingers curl into a fist, heat flashing through me.

I hate him.

“Fuck you.”