His Dark Obsession: Claimed By The Mafia King

Chapter Five

I push myself off the chair and stumble out of the kitchen, my tears still pouring like they might never stop.

My hands hit the wall again and again, each slap echoing the hurt I feel inside. I want to scream, but the sound dies in my throat, leaving only the raw ache of loneliness.

Without thinking, I peel off my sweatpants and slide into a pair of black jeans. I yank on a baggy sweater, shivering as the night air brushes against my skin.

My fingers tremble as they run through my hair, trying to steady my racing heart, but nothing seems to help.

I snatch my car key from the nightstand, gripping it so tightly my knuckles ache.

The stairs feel endless, but I push forward, desperate to escape before anyone can stop me or ask what’s wrong.

I need space, any space, where my mind can finally breathe.

I start the engine and peel onto the main road, my thoughts a whirlwind of anger, pain, and fear.

I have no destination, no plan—I just need to be far away from everything familiar. I don’t even know how long I’ve been driving, only that the weight in my chest hasn’t lifted an inch.

The night is quiet, the kind of silence that presses against your skin and makes you feel smaller than you already are.

Streetlights pass like ghosts, fading in and out, leaving only shadows to keep me company.

My mind races, going over everything, over Ethan, over the betrayal, over the helplessness that’s been my constant companion.

Finally, I slow and pull over on the side of an empty road. The quiet presses in on me, different from the chaos in my head, and for a moment, I let myself breathe.

I rest my head against the seat, silently promising not to cry again, though I feel like my soul is cracking in pieces.

I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again. Ethan stole that from me the day he took advantage of me.

A part of me died that day, a part I don’t know how to bring back.

A sudden gust of cold air makes me flinch, and I turn toward the sound.

A stranger slides into the passenger seat and shuts the door with a click that echoes in the still night.

He’s a man—no, more than just a man—someone dangerously attractive, and my body reacts before my mind can even understand what’s happening.

“W-what are you doing? Who are you?” I stammer, my voice breaking like my hands.

“What? I just need a ride. You’re not going to turn a stranger away, right?” he asks with a slow, teasing smile that makes my stomach twist into knots.

“I’m sorry, but you need to get out of my car,” I insist, trying to sound firm, even as my heart hammers in my chest.

“Car?” His brow lifts as he tilts his head, confused but amused.

“Yes, my car,” I say, gripping the steering wheel as if it can protect me from this unexpected intrusion.

He looks around, blinking a few times, and then scoffs softly.

“I only see a box,” he mutters, clicking his seat belt into place like he owns the space.

“If you don’t leave my car, I’m calling the cops!” I snap, my voice trembling more from fear than anger.

Instead of leaving, he slides his phone toward me with a sly grin.

“Use mine. Maybe yours died,” he says, calm, teasing, like he’s enjoying watching me panic.

My mouth falls open as I stare at him, caught between disbelief and irritation.

What kind of man just climbs into a girl’s car and acts like it’s completely normal?

But then my gaze slips over him, and the world tilts slightly.

He’s… breathtaking. His grey eyes are sharp, almost dangerous, and somehow pull me in.

The kind of eyes that seem to see through you, and yet hold something tempting I can’t quite name.

His jawline is carved like it was sculpted, and a small Arabic tattoo peeks out from under his collar.

My stomach flutters at the sight, and I catch myself noticing more than I should.

He has tattoos. On his arm, dark and intricate, creeping from beneath his hoodie sleeve. Every line seems deliberate, telling a story I’ll never know. And still, I can’t look away.

“I’m serious, you know,” I say quietly, testing the tension. “I mean it. I will call the cops.”

He laughs softly, a sound that’s too warm for this empty road.

“Relax, I don’t bite,” he says, his grin widening. “Well… not unless you ask nicely.”

I glare at him, both annoyed and confused by the small shiver his words send down my spine.

“You’re insane,” I mutter, more to myself than him.

“And you’re… quiet. I like that. Mysterious,” he says, leaning slightly toward me, his voice low and teasing. “Makes me wonder what’s really going on in that pretty head of yours.”

I want to snap at him, to tell him to leave, but instead, I feel heat creeping up my neck.

I look away, forcing my gaze back to the road, even though my pulse betrays me.

One minute ago, I was drowning in despair, thinking I could never feel anything good again.

Now, I’m trapped in a car with a man who seems to carry both sin and beauty in equal measure.

This isn’t me. I don’t notice men like this. I’m not supposed to. My life hasn’t given me the luxury of temptation.

“Stop checking me out and drive, Tinkerbell,” he says, his voice low, calm, and annoyingly confident.

My mouth opens, but no words come out.

His eyes catch mine, and a strange warmth blossoms in my chest, one I haven’t felt in years.

His lips twitch in that smug little smirk, as if he knows exactly the chaos he’s stirring inside me.

God, why does he have to know?

I look away, my heart racing like a caged bird, trying to calm the heat of awareness I can’t control.

Something about him screams trouble, danger, illegality, all the things I should run from—but I can’t.

If there is a heaven, I already know I’m not getting in. And sitting here with this man, feeling all the fire and fear and curiosity wrapped up together, proves it.