Page 142 of Sweet Obsession

goddess, Misha... please, hold on.

But deep down, I knew. I knew that time was running out. Chernov wouldn’t just hurt him. He would destroy him. And I couldn’t save him. Not unless I gave myself up.

My chest tightened, a sharp, painful squeeze around my heart.

The thought of walking into Chernov’s hands, of surrendering myself willingly... It made my stomach churn.

I had been so determined to stay strong, to hold on to the hope that somehow, Misha and I could survive this, that we could fight back and rebuild.

But now? Now it felt like a cruel joke. There was no fight left in me. Only a cold, brutal reality that I had no choice but to face.

I couldn’t say I told him not to go to the banquet. Misha was a fighter, a man of pride and determination. I knew better than anyone that he would never sit back and let Chernov win, no matter the cost.

I stood up, my legs unsteady, and moved to the window, my gaze distant, unfocused. Outside, the world carried on as though nothing had changed, but everything had. The man I loved was at the mercy of a monster, and I was powerless to save him.

The thought of losing Misha, of never seeing him again, was a pain so deep I could barely breathe.

I can’t let him go. I won’t. But what if... what if the only way to save him is to give up everything I’ve ever known? My freedom, my soul. I couldn’t be the reason he died... I couldn’t bear it.

My heart ached as I whispered to the empty room, as if hoping somehow he could hear me, wherever he was.

Please, Misha. Please, don’t give up on me. I’m coming. I’ll do whatever it takes to get to you. I swear I will.

But the silence in return felt heavier than any promise I could make.

Chapter 22

MISHA

I was still in Colombia when they dropped me.

One moment I was hanging upside down, blood rushing to my skull, body screaming from the strain, then I was falling.

I hit the concrete hard. Knees, ribs, shoulder. Something cracked. My vision blurred. My head throbbed.

They blindfolded me. Cuffed my wrists behind my back. Chained my ankles.

Dragged me like dead weight from one hell into another.

Jet engines. Heat. Noise. Then silence.

I blacked out somewhere mid-flight. Came to again on cold cement.

My wrists burned. My shoulders were locked in place.

I couldn’t lift my head.

But I recognized the voices.

Chernov. Lev. Alexei.

The Odessa brothers.

Three devils in tailored suits. Sitting in front of me like judges at an execution.

“Look at this mess,” Chernov drawled. “You always had the face for martyrdom, Misha.”

Lev snorted. “He looks like someone pissed on his soul.”