Page 37 of Distorted Obsession (The Distorted Trilogy #1)

“What do you mean I can’t say no?” Eva exclaims, looking up from the document on the table.

Smirking, I reply, “Just like it says there in black and white.”

Her honey-brown eyes dilate, and I pounce. “No matter what we ask of you, the only acceptable reply is yes.”

Eva gulps, her head swivels, studying our expressions, probably trying to determine whether we’re being serious or not.

The answer— as serious as the way we watched our sister die . Eva Rose Pierce will be at our beckoning, and we will break her, remaking her into the perfect doll.

The chair screeches as she pushes to stand. “I-I-I don’t think I can do this.” Her gaze flicks up before dropping to the floor, and she begins to wring her wrist aggressively. The skin turns bright red as she mumbles incoherently to herself.

Cooper slides behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her into his body before lowering his mouth to her neck.

“Are you sure you can’t, Evie Rose?” he whispers, nipping her throat.

Her breath hitches, but he doesn’t stop until she looks ready to melt into a puddle.

“Because I think you very much can. In fact, I think you desperately want to.”

Her eyes momentarily close, reopening with a determined resolve. “Let me keep reading,” she sighs, pulling away from Cooper’s arms. Then, she picks up the contract and reads it aloud.

“Section 2—Subsection 3A, Eva Rose Pierce agrees to the following terms:

I must be available at your beck and call, and if I should miss a call, I must call back within five minutes.

I must only wear outfits agreed upon. The only exception is for volleyball.

I must only eat what is on the approved weekly menu.

I must not attend campus or off-campus parties or gatherings without prior approval. The only exception is for volleyball-related parties or gatherings.

I must attend any football games that do not conflict with my volleyball schedule and wear one of your jerseys.

I must not visit home unless I receive prior approval. The only exception is if there is a family emergency.”

Eva’s expression grows grimmer with each line item she reads. I internally chuckle because she hasn’t gotten to the good part yet. It’s been about ten minutes of her dictating parts she can’t fathom to be real as she continues to read through the lengthy document.

Leaning against the wall of our kitchen, I eagerly wait. It doesn’t take very long before her audible gasp, and then her shrill screech bounces off the walls. I nearly cover my ears, but I would never give her the satisfaction.

“Section 5—Subsection 6A, Eva Rose Pierce agrees to the following terms:

I must not engage in any sexual acts, including but not limited to:

Giving or receiving cunnilingus.

Giving fellatio.

Using any sexual toys.

Sex with anyone not on the approved list at the approved times. The only exception is that there is no limit to the amount of sex with Cooper Amir Jacobi and Colter Emirhan Jacobi.

Sexting.

Any online sexual websites.

Coming without permission.

I must not date or talk to anyone not approved.

I must stay away from any love or potential love interests.

I must engage in sexual activities at any time or place with anyone Cooper Amir Jacobi and Colter Emirhan Jacobi require.

I must submit to regularly scheduled health examinations and use approved forms of birth control.”

Eva looks down at the paper as if it will answer the unknowns for her before staring at Cooper and me. “This can’t be life, right? Like this is an early April Fool’s joke?”

Cooper studies her before he retorts, “All control will be in our hands, Evie, and in exchange, you’ll never have to deal with the hurt and guilt eating you alive, one slice of your skin by blade or rough sex with yourself at a time.”

There’s a brief silence, and then I chime in, “Both times you’ve spiraled out of control—haven’t we easily given you exactly what you needed to pull yourself out of the pain weighing you down?”

“But… but… but?—”

Pushing off the wall, I cut her off, “No buts. Reality is staring you in the face, and it’s screaming you need these, or you may be one cut away from death. You can’t end up like Farrah, Evie Rose. We’ve already lost one flower—we can’t afford to lose another.”

The look of panic on her grief-stricken face indicates that the sledgehammer I just took to her perfectly sealed wall has caused the foundation to crack. It’s then that I know I have her.

She doesn’t bother to read another word, which is a pity for her because there’s a lot more in this contract she should know about, but I won’t mention that.

This isn’t an even power exchange—nor is it a BDSM contract.

This is purely ownership for revenge. She’s fucked in so many beautiful ways, and I, for one, can’t wait to see the look of shock on her face when the floor drops from under her.

“I’ll sign,” she announces, grabbing my Fulgor Nocturnus fountain pen designed by Tibaldi.

I smirk at my choice of my favorite pens—because you need top-quality items when you’re ruining someone’s existence.

Eva signs, and then her slumped shoulders rise, and the inner turmoil readily visible on her face dissolves.

In its place is her assured and serene demeanor.

She’s locked the scared part of her away.

I’ll let it slide for now, but soon enough, fear will be all she knows except for in our arms. Until then, we will ruin everything that is Eva Rose Pierce.