Page 66 of Forced By an Obsessive Bratva Stalker

“Off-limits,” I said. “My office, the west wing, the lower levels. There are things in this house you have no reason to see…”

“Like the incident at Meridian Solutions?”

The words landed hard, accompanied by a fleeting silence. She held my gaze, refusing to look away, like she was daring me to snap or something.

“I mean, that’s the genesis of my problem with you, isn’t it? In a nutshell, the reason for my kidnapping can be traced back to my witnessing what I shouldn’t have.”

I held her gaze without flinching. “Semantics aside, the practical reality is the same either way.”

“Semantics.” She let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You drugged me and had me carried out of my own apartment in the middle of the night, and you want to talk to me about semantics over…duck breast?” The slight pause came when she glanced down at her plate.

“I don’t see the problem with wanting to talk to you about the next phase of your life.”

That landed the way I intended. Not as cruel, simply as fact.

“I refuse to accept that this is the next phase of my life.” Delusion was all I heard in her voice.

I said nothing. Just sipped from my glass.

“You can’t keep me here, Rodion.” Her chin lifted, her face twisting into a frown. “Eventually, someone will notice I’m gone. My friends. My family. The university. Someone will come looking.”

A crooked smirk played on my lips, and I almost laughed at her naivety.

“Oh, they will notice, all right,” I began, my voice low and even. “In fact, it’ll interest you to know that they already have.” I cut a precise piece of the duck, unhurried.

Her brows drew together, a hint of bewilderment flickering in her gaze. “What did you do?” she growled, her grip tightening on the fork in her hand.

“Your absence has been accounted for.” I chewed on the meat in my mouth, savoring the taste on my tongue.

She glared at me, unable to understand what I was saying.

“A leave of absence was filed with your university, citing a family emergency.”

Her eyes widened slowly, shock and disbelief dancing in their depths.

I continued, “A message was sent from your phone to Iris Hart, explaining that you needed time away to process recent events.”

“You did not…” Denial and fear laced her tone

“The narrative is already in motion, and it requires nothing further from you to remain credible.”

Her face was drained of color. “This is wrong! You can’t do this!”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll come to understand soon that the only things I can’t do are the things I don’t want to do.”

She seethed in silence, her chest rising and falling with slow breaths. “I don’t care what the university might think, but Iris will never fall for that—she’ll know something is wrong.”

A pause.

“I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you.” I let the words sink in for a moment. “You see, I had the message crafted in a manner consistent with how you communicate with her. She has no reason to suspect otherwise.”

“You don’t know how I communicate with her.” Her frown deepened.

“I’ve been monitoring you for well over a month now, Aria, and I have access to all your digital footprints. Phone calls. Text messages.” A pause. “In fact, I’ve read your text history with your best friend. So believe me when I tell you I know precisely how you communicate with Iris Hart.”

Her lips quivered as a flash of defeat flickered in her gaze. “You’re…you’re evil.”

“I am.”