Page 42 of Obsession of the Bratva

She was breathing hard because of raising her voice at me. Her eyes were bright, and her hair slightly disheveled. She looked beautiful and dangerous at the same time. She looked mine. The thought appeared without permission, and I hated it.

“You know what your problem is?” she snapped.

I sighed. “Please enlighten me. This should be entertaining.”

“You think everyone suffers the way you do.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“You think pain gives you permission to become this awful person you have turned into.”

I laughed again. Wrong move. “Awful person? Seriously?”

“You are being cruel, Nico.”

The word landed harder than expected, and I looked away first. Only for a second, but unfortunately, she noticed.

“You weren’t like this before. The Nico I knew would have never done anything like this.”

“People change. The Nico you knew does not exist anymore.”

“You used to be kind.”

That one irritated me. “Kindness is overrated.”

“You didn’t believe that before.”

“Before what?”

Her expression faltered. Before us. Before you. Before everything. But neither of us said it. Didn’t need to. I stood, and the movement instantly changed the atmosphere. Now we were close. Too close.

“You don’t get to talk about who I used to be.”

“Why?”

“Because you killed him.”

Silence. Pure silence. I watched the words hit, sink, and hurt.

“Maybe I did.”

The answer stunned me. Not because she’d said it but because she sounded guilty. For a second, I almost asked why, but instead I doubled down.

“Let me remind you that you cheated on me. You ruined me and us and what we had. So you don’t get to question who I bring home.”

The room froze. There it was again. The original wound. The thing neither of us escaped. Her eyes closed briefly as if she was exhausted. As if she was carrying something impossibly heavy. Then she laughed. A terrible sound. Broken and disbelieving.

“You really believe that?”

I frowned.

“What?”

“You actually believe I cheated.”

“What the fuck else am I supposed to believe?”

The question exploded from me. Finally. Finally. Months of rage and humiliation, imagining her with someone else. All of it surfaced.