Trapped in His Dark Obsession

Breakfast with the Devil

The morning sun did not gently wake me; it violently pierced through the narrow gap in the heavy velvet curtains, dragging back to a living nightmare. I shot up from the massive expanse of the king-sized bed, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. For one blissful, disorienting second, my sleep-addled brain thought I was back in my cramped, miserable apartment.

Then, the overwhelming scent of dark bergamot and cedar hit my senses. I looked down at the oversized black t-shirt clinging to my shivering frame, and the terrifying memories of last night crashed over me like a freezing tidal wave.

I threw off the thick silk duvet, my bare feet sinking deeply into the plush cream carpet. Panic, raw and unadulterated, fueled my sudden, desperate movements. I rushed directly to the heavy mahogany door, wrapping both trembling hands around the polished brass handle. I twisted it with absolutely all my remaining strength.

It did not budge a single millimeter. Locked entirely from the outside.

Breathing heavily, I spun around and marched toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. I gripped the heavy drapes and yanked them open, desperate for any impossible glimpse of an escape route. The blinding morning light momentarily forced me to squint against the glare.

When my vision finally cleared, my stomach dropped sickeningly to the floor. Valerius had not been exaggerating. The sprawling estate was a literal, impenetrable fortress. From my third-floor vantage point, I could clearly see the high stone walls topped with glittering razor wire. Heavily armed men in dark tactical gear patrolled the manicured perimeter, tightly holding the thick leather leashes of massive, terrifyingly muscular guard dogs. There was no fire escape. There were absolutely no weak points.

I was entirely, hopelessly caged.

A sudden, loud click echoed through the silent room. The heavy metal deadbolt sliding out of place.

I whipped around, pressing my back flat against the cold, bulletproof glass of the window. The mahogany door swung open with a smooth, terrifying silence.

Valerius stepped over the threshold, bringing the freezing temperature of the room down by several terrifying degrees. He looked absolutely flawless, dressed in a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up to his thick elbows, exposing the dark, intricate tattoos wrapping around his muscular forearms. He carried a silver tray effortlessly in one hand, but his icy blue eyes were fixed obsessively on my trembling form.

He calmly kicked the door shut behind him. The heavy lock clicked once again.

"You are awake," he observed softly, his gravelly voice violently vibrating in the tense air. He walked over to a small glass table near the unlit fireplace and set the silver tray down. The rich smell of fresh coffee and warm pastries filled the room, making my empty, traitorous stomach ache painfully. "Come eat, Aria."

"I am not hungry," I lied directly through my teeth, pressing myself even harder against the freezing glass.

Valerius slowly straightened his towering frame. He did not yell, but the sudden, terrifying darkening of his eyes made me instantly regret opening my defiant mouth. He closed the vast distance between us in a few long, predatory strides, stopping mere inches from my body.

"I will not repeat myself," he whispered, his tone dangerously calm. "You are pale, you are dangerously thin, and you are going to sit at that table and eat. Or I will forcefully sit you on my lap and feed you every single bite myself."

My breath hitched violently. The sheer intensity radiating off his large body was entirely suffocating. I knew better than to test his volatile, razor-thin patience this morning. I slowly peeled myself away from the cold window and walked on trembling legs toward the small glass table. I sank heavily into the velvet chair, my hands shaking so badly I had to quickly hide them in my lap.

Valerius pulled out the opposite chair and sat down, his imposing frame dominating the space. He poured a cup of black coffee, sliding it precisely across the glass surface toward me.

"Now," he murmured, leaning back and resting his tattooed forearms on the armrests. "We are going to have that long conversation."

I stared blankly at the steaming dark liquid. "There is absolutely nothing left to say, Valerius. I ran because I was terrified of you. I am still terrified of you."

"You faked a fiery car crash," he corrected sharply, his voice dropping to a lethal, vibrating growl. "You let me stand in a freezing graveyard and bury charred remains that I genuinely believed belonged to the only woman I ever claimed as mine. Do you have any microscopic idea what that did to my mind, Aria?"

I finally looked up, meeting his furious, icy gaze head-on. "You killed my father, Valerius."

The heavy silence that immediately followed my words was completely deafening. The air in the luxurious room grew instantly toxic and heavy.

Valerius did not flinch. He did not look away. He slowly leaned forward across the glass table, his terrifying blue eyes turning entirely pitch black with ruthless, unapologetic possession.

"Your father was a pathetic traitor who stole heavily from my syndicate," Valerius stated coldly, completely devoid of any human remorse. "His life was the required payment. And your life, my beautiful little runaway, is the permanent collateral. You are never leaving this house again."