Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
No matter how tightly she clenched them together, the tremor refused to leave. The images clung to her mind—unwanted, relentless.
Blood.
The dull thud of flesh against bone.
The calm in his eyes.
The room still felt suffocating, as if violence had settled into the walls. Even now—after the man was dragged away, broken and barely conscious, sent to the hospital on his orders—her chest ached.
He had done it because of her.
"You didn't have to do that," she said quietly.
He stood near the window, fixing his cufflinks with meticulous care, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
"He crossed a line," he replied.
"That doesn't give you the right to decide what happens to someone," she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.
He turned slowly, his gaze locking onto hers.
"In my world," he said, "lines exist for a reason."
She swallowed. "I don't belong to your world."
He took a step closer—not threatening, not rushed. Intentional.
"You're already in it," he said calmly.
Her pulse thundered. "That doesn't mean you get to claim me."
Something unreadable crossed his face.
"I don't claim lightly," he said. "And I don't let go once I decide."
She looked at him, her eyes still glossy with tears, disbelief written across her face.
"You… are… crazy."
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then his lips curved—slow, dangerous.
"Crazy?" he echoed softly.
He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel his presence like a shadow against her skin.
"For you," he said, his voice dropping, "absolutely."
His gaze held hers, unwavering.
"And I would be far more dangerous if I weren't."
Her breath caught.
This wasn't denial.
It was admission.
And in that moment, she understood—
This wasn't a man mistaking control for love.
This was a man who knew exactly what he was.
And chose to be that—for her.
Her voice broke before she could stop it.
"You don't even love me…"
The words came out fragile. Bare.
Not an accusation—
a truth that hurt too much to ignore.
His lips curled slowly into a dark smirk.
"I never said it was love, principessa," he murmured.
He stepped closer, close enough that escape was no longer an option.
"Love is weak. Temporary."
His eyes burned into hers.
"What I feel is far worse."
His voice dropped, heavy with certainty.
"You are my obsession."
"My greatest possession."
"And whether you accept it or not—"
A pause. Deliberate. Suffocating.
"You are mine."
Her chest tightened.
Then, quietly—dangerously—he added,
"You have no idea how far I'll go…"
"…and you'll never escape me."
…she clenched her fists, nails biting into her skin as anger finally pushed past fear. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, but she didn't look away.
"Liam Alessandro Moretti," she said, her voice trembling—not weak, but overwhelmed.
"What you're doing right now is toying with me."
He watched her.
Not amused.
Not gentle.
"And I won't let you," she continued, swallowing hard.
"You'll throw me away once you're done. I know men like you."
Her voice cracked despite her effort.
"One day this obsession of yours will end."
Her innocent eyes burned as they met his.
"But I won't let you ruin me," she said, shaking now.
"I won't let you break me just because you're bored."
Silence.
Then—a dark, humorless chuckle slipped past his lips.
He stepped closer, leaning down until his shadow swallowed her whole.
She didn't flinch.
Didn't retreat.
"You talk too much for someone who has no power," he said coolly.
Yet his jaw tightened.
Because the truth was—
A mere girl.
No weapon.
No threat.
And yet she had managed to stir something inside him that no enemy ever had.
"Yes," he admitted quietly, almost reluctantly.
"Maybe you're right."
Her breath hitched.
"Maybe this obsession will end," he continued, voice calm, detached.
"Maybe one day I'll wake up and feel nothing."
He straightened, regaining control, his presence once again that of a king who ruled blood and fear.
"I run an empire built on bodies," he said coldly.
"I destroy cities without losing sleep. I don't keep what no longer interests me."
Her heart sank.
"So yes," he went on, eyes locked onto hers,
"men like me do get bored."
A pause.
Then his tone shifted.
Lower.
Sharper.
"But don't mistake that for mercy."
He leaned in again, closer—too close.
"You think knowing that gives you control?" he murmured.
"You think understanding me saves you?"
His gaze raked over her face, slow, possessive, consuming.
"You can cry. You can resist. You can hate me," he said.
"But none of it changes one thing."
Her voice shook. "And what's that?"
His lips curled—not in a smile, but something darker.
"That while this obsession lasts," he said quietly,
"you are mine."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"You don't even love me," she whispered, the words breaking her.
For a moment—just a moment—something raw flickered in his eyes.
Then it vanished.
His lips curved into a dark smirk.
"I never said it was love, principessa."
He straightened fully now, towering, untouchable.
"Love is weak," he continued.
"Love hesitates."
His eyes burned into hers.
"What I feel doesn't."
He stepped back, giving her space—cruelly.
"You're right," he said calmly.
"One day this may end."
Her heart clung to that hope.
Then he crushed it.
"But until it does," he added softly,
"I will own every breath you take."
A beat.
"And when I walk away," he finished, voice cold as steel,
"you won't be ruined."
His gaze lingered.
"You'll be changed."
Her tears fell freely now, one after another.
She gulped, the lump in her throat making each word a battle as she stepped back, shaking her head. Her whole body trembled.
"Liam…" she whispered, her voice breaking but steadying,
" You… you will regret it badly one day… real bad."
Her voice rose slightly, trembling with anger and fear.
"And the moment you realize… it will be too late."
"…And I… I will fight you till the end. I won't let you do as you wish!"
She took another step back, trembling but defiant.
"You think you can toy with me until you're satisfied? No… I won't let you!"
She pressed a hand to her chest, breath uneven, eyes blazing through her tears.
"You are right… I am powerless," she said, voice trembling yet full of fire,
"but I am not weak. I might be kind… soft… maybe too soft… but I am not a coward!"
Her chin lifted higher.
"I, Marina Elisabetta Rossi, will not be a part of your pathetic game!"
He let out a low, dangerous chuckle, dark and humorless.
"You'll be changed Marina Elisabetta Rossi . And you will be mine for the rest of your life untill I want."
he murmured, stepping closer, shadow swallowing her.
Gritting her teeth she looked up at him with her burning gaze.
"What qualifications do you have to change me,
Liam Alessandro Romano!?"
Her hands clenched into fists, trembling but unwavering.
"You think you can bend me… manipulate me… own me?" she said, voice cracking but defiant.
"I won't let you. I… I won't!"
He tilted his head, amused for a fraction of a second before obsession took over.
"You think I need qualifications?" he whispered, voice low, lethal.
"No, principessa. I don't need permission. I don't need your consent. I don't need your approval."
His eyes burned into hers, dark and calculating.
"You are… infuriating. Soft. Fragile. Innocent. And yet… you consume me more than empires, more than power, more than life itself."
Her voice faltered.
"You can't… you can't—"
He leaned closer, shadow brushing her, voice dropping to a whisper that made her shiver.
"Can't? Marina Elisabetta Rossi, you misunderstand me.
I don't need to change you to have you.
You are mine in every glance, every breath, every heartbeat you cannot hide from me."
His hand lifted, not touching, but close enough to make her skin prickle.
"You can resist, scream, cry… even curse me," he continued, cold, obsessive, controlled.
"You can think you are strong… but strength doesn't matter here."
A pause.
"And yes… you'll be changed," he said softly, deliberate, heavy as chains.
"Not because I force it… but because no one can stand this—stand me—and walk away unchanged."
He leaned in, shadow pressing, suffocating, possessive.
"And whether you like it or not…"
"…you are mine."
Not love. Obsession.
And how long will this obsession last? Two day?… one week?… maybe a month?... or forever?
Will she remain trapped in the Mafia king's cage—forever bound to him?