Page 97 of His Darkest Obsession

"My real name isn't Indigo. It's Amelia. That's why my sister's journal calls me Miels. It's what she's always called me since she was a kid."

I give her the space to talk. Her throat works as she swallows after the first confession, and she takes a shuddering breath before she continues.

"Two years ago, I worked as an intern in Grant Bennet's office during the summer after my junior year at Columbia."

There's a heaviness to her words that speaks of something darker lurking beneath this simple admission, and each word feels like they're being ripped from the very depth of her soul.

I expect her to continue and tell me what happened during that internship so that I might see the missing piece that might explain everything. But instead, she looks away, her lips trembling and fresh tears welling up in her eyes.

"Please," she finally whispers. "Please don't make me say anymore."

The smallness of her voice breaks something inside of me, and I instinctively tug her close against my chest. One hand cradles the back of her head while the other wraps around her shoulders. Her body shakes in my embrace, and I feel tears soaking through my shirt.

"I won’t," I murmur as my fingers stroke her hair. "You've told me enough,britvochka."

She continues to cry silently against my chest and my mind races through possibilities of what might have happened during that summer internship. What could be so horrific that it would driveher to change her name, to carve those scars into her own skin, and to make her flee at the mere sight of Grant Bennet?

Did she see something she wasn't supposed to see in his office?

Or was it something far worse, something personal that would explain the terror in her eyes when she saw him tonight?

Whatever it was, it was damning enough for Bennet to want her silenced permanently.

My protective instincts flare into white-hot rage at the thought of what he might have done to her. The need to destroy him burns through my veins.

Gently, I cup Indigo's face, tilting it upward until those hazel eyes, red-rimmed and swimming with tears, meet mine.

I have one final answer that I need to know.

I need her to be brave for just one more second.

"Did your parents die because of what happened that summer?"

Her breath stops, and she looks at me with a fresh wariness as if she isn't sure she can trust me with this information. In the silence of our embrace and the darkness of the room, the answer dangles tantalizingly out of view for a heartbeat.

Then another.

And another.

Finally, her soft hazel eyes shimmer and she gives me a tiny nod, a gesture so small that it might have not existed were it not for how close she is to me.

"It was all my fault," she whispers.

"No." I grip her face more firmly, making sure she can't look away. "It was never your fault,britvochka. Never. You understand me? The blame lies with Bennet and Bennet alone. Not you."

A fresh wave of tears spills down her cheeks. I wipe them away, letting my thumb linger against the softness of her skin. Heat blooms between us, and I as I run my finger down her cheek, she turns and places a tiny kiss on the pad of my thumb.

"I will avenge your parents," I promise, my voice dropping to a whisper that carries more certainty than any shouted oath. "I will destroy Bennet. I will break everything that he built, everything that he loves, and everything that he is. I will burn it all to the ground and I will do it all for you. I swear."

Without thinking, I lower my mouth to hers, and claim her lips in a kiss that's both tender and fierce.

33

INDIGO

His kiss is softerthan I expected.

It's not gentle—because there's nothing gentle about Anatoly—but itissoft in a way that contradicts everything else about him. His mouth moves against mine with such perfect pressure that my body starts responding before my mind has a chance to catch up.