Page 15 of Sweet Obsession (Savage Vow #1)

He laughed under his breath, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just making conversation,” Chernov said. Then, to Luna, his tone dipped lower, darker. “You know... alliances aren’t always binding. Some women learn that early. They learn they have options.”

Her hand found mine. Small. Cold. Trembling. Not by mistake. I gripped her hand—firm, possessive. A warning to both of them.

“She already made her choice,” I said. “And she understands what it costs to walk away.”

Chernov’s mouth curled. Not quite a smile. Not quite done. “Of course,” he said, mock-bowing. “For now.”

He turned and walked off slowly, like a man who didn’t fear me. Like he expected to see her again.

The Odessa family had more ports and men than three of the five Bratva families combined. If I let him make a move on her without consequence, the others would see it as weakness. And weakness gets people killed.

I didn’t watch him go. I watched her. Because it wasn’t just protectiveness that burned through me. It was jealousy.

Ugly. Violent. Mine.

The way her hand slipped from mine a second too late. The way she swallowed hard, like her throat burned.

“Friend of yours?” she asked quietly.

“Enemy,” I said. “One you never speak to again.”

And I meant ever.

That Evening, at my estate.

The snow had turned to sleet, rattling against the windows like claws on glass. Inside the study, the fire crackled low, casting long shadows against the walls. Maps lay spread across the oak table, red lines bleeding across regions, routes, territories. My world.

I leaned over it, elbows braced, jaw tight.

But I wasn’t seeing the maps.

I was seeing him. The way Chernov looked at her. Like he already owned her. Like he thought I didn’t matter.

“Fucking bastard,” I muttered.

“You talking about Chernov or the docks?” Nikolai asked from the corner, casually sipping from a chipped glass.

“Both.”

Viktor stood stiff-backed. Nikolai leaned against the wall, spinning a knife between his fingers. Oleg scribbled notes in shorthand only I could read.

They were my circle. The ones who had bled beside me. Who’d die for me, no questions asked.

“Shipments from Colombia are slowing,” Oleg said. “If we don’t secure the Kharabrovsk port, we’re fucked in two weeks.”

“And the buyers?” I asked.

“Still waiting,” Viktor said. “But Chernov’s circling. Promising them better rates and protection.”

My jaw flexed. “If Chernov wants war, I’ll bury him.”

“But not until the Volograd estate is operational,” Nikolai said. “One war at a time.”

The fire snapped behind us like a warning shot.

I leaned closer over the table. “Double the guards. Send decoys through Irkutsk. We move quiet and fast.”

They nodded.

Until the door creaked. Soft. Slow.

Every head turned.

My hand went to my gun, until I saw her. Luna.

Barefoot. Wearing one of my old sweaters, sleeves dragging over her fingers. Hair messy from sleep. Too vulnerable. Too intimate.

A vision of innocence that did not belong here.

She stepped inside, blinking against the low firelight.

Maybe she came looking for something. Or maybe she just wanted to see if I was alone. She always noticed more than she let on.

Every man in the room stilled like wolves scenting something soft.

I stood fast.

“Out,” I barked.

Not to her.

To them.

They left without hesitation. But Viktor paused. His mouth tight. I didn’t care.

When the door shut, it was like the room exhaled.

She hovered near the desk, arms wrapped around herself, watching me with those dark, defiant eyes.

“You could’ve been shot,” I said, voice rough. “My men don’t hesitate.”

“Your men are too jumpy,” she replied.

“They’re alive because they are.”

She looked at the maps. Then back at me.

“You sent them away because of me.”

“I sent them away,” I said flatly, “because appearances matter.”

Another lie. But she didn’t call me on it.

She just stood there, silent. Barefoot and wrapped in my scent.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I added.

“And yet,” she whispered, “here I am.”

Something snapped in my chest.

She didn’t flinch when I stepped closer.

Didn’t move when I reached out and brushed her sleeve back, revealing her wrist. The scar there. Thin. Ugly.

“You hide it well,” I murmured.

Her throat bobbed. “I don’t hide it for you.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

I dropped her hand. Turned away before I did something I couldn’t take back. Before I touched her like I wanted to. Before I claimed her like every inch of me screamed too.

I crossed the room slowly. Predator to prey.

But she didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Didn’t back down.

“Why do you hate me so much?” she whispered. “Even the devil doesn’t deserve this kind of hatred.”

Her voice cracked. A real crack. Not bravado. Not performance.

Something raw and broken lived in that sound.

I stopped in front of her, close enough to feel the heat bleeding from her skin, close enough to see the slight tremble in her lashes.

“You think I hate you because I avoid you?” I asked, voice rough.

She met my gaze like she wanted to burn in it. “Educate me, then. How else do you prove to someone their existence is a burden to you?”

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t blink.

“But you were raised by a cartel,” I said coldly. “You knew this life. You knew you’d be traded like gold. You knew love had no place here.”

“Right.”

The word sliced quieter than a scream. I let out a short, bitter laugh. No humor. No mercy.

I moved around her slowly, deliberately, stalking.

She turned as I circled, refusing to give me her back. Stubborn to the last breath. The sweater slipped off one shoulder.

Soft skin. Exposed.

A canvas I wanted to claim. To ruin. But there was steel beneath that beauty. That’s what twisted me up.

She wasn’t just something to break. She’d break me right back.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I growled.

“Actually,” she said, lifting her chin, “I interrupted you on purpose.”

Her voice held that sharp edge again, danger in sugar.

“Testing my patience?”

“Perhaps.” A casual shrug. “Maybe I wanted to see what the devil looks like when no one’s watching.”

I smirked, low and feral.

“You won’t like what you find.”

“I’m not here to like anything.”

The air between us snapped. Tight and magnetic.

She was so close I could taste the vanilla smoke of her skin. “Do you know what kind of deals get made in this room?” I murmured. “What kind of blood stains this floor?”

“I’m not naive,” she said evenly. “My father makes blood deals every week.”

She had no idea. Or maybe she did. Maybe that’s what made her walk into the wolf’s den barefoot and unafraid.

My fingers brushed her wrist. Light. Barely a graze. But it was enough. She inhaled sharply.

I pressed one hand to the table beside her hip, trapping her between the wood and my body.

I didn’t touch her. But I could’ve. I would’ve.

“You should be afraid of me, malyshka,” I said, voice low as the grave.

Her throat worked around a swallow. The firelight painted her in gold and sin.

“You haven’t seen what I become when the leash breaks.

I looked at her mouth. Too soft. Too pink. Too damn close.

I leaned in, close enough for my breath to trail along the shell of her ear. “You crashed my meeting,” I whispered darkly. Let her feel the weight of that sin.

She shivered.

I pulled back slowly, savoring it. Watching the flush crawl up her throat like a secret.

“Next time you walk in uninvited,” I said, tone velvet and venom, “I might not be so generous.”

I didn’t tell her I’d found my brother’s necklace among her belongings. Now wasn’t the time. She was already a storm I wasn’t ready to drown yet.

I turned and stalked from the room without looking back.

Viktor was waiting in the hall, arms folded.

“There’s a problem,” he said tightly.

My blood was already roaring.

“Chernov?” I bit out.

He nodded. “He’s bidding twice what we’re offering on the Volograd estate.”

Of course.

He hadn’t come to the estate in person for nothing. He could’ve sent a lieutenant. But he came himself. Because he’s making moves.

“Make it clear anyone who deals with Chernov answers to me,” I said, voice like frost.

Viktor hesitated. “There’s more. He might be interested in Luna. One of our plants heard him talking about her. Said she was... unique.”

My jaw locked. Fist clenched at my side. I didn’t answer. Because if Chernov laid so much as a fucking finger on her, I wouldn’t just start a war, I’d burn the world and finish it.

“Anything else?” I asked finally, my voice tight enough to cut steel.

Viktor’s eyes met mine. He wasn’t done.

“He’s coming,” he said. “Tonight. With his brothers.”

I didn’t blink.

“Claims he’s bringing an offer. One too big to refuse.”

The silence between us stretched. Heavy and sharp.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. My stillness was already screaming violence.

“Where?” I asked, though I already knew.

“Here,” Viktor said. “The estate.”

Of course.

The bastard wouldn’t pass up a chance to slither right into my den, especially if it meant catching a glimpse of her.

But if Chernov thought he could circle her, scent her, speak her name without bleeding for it, he’d learn.

I’d carve the lesson into his bones.

My hand still burned from touching her, Luna.

She walked into that room like a lamb, all soft eyes and bare skin, but left me raw and restless. Like something feral had stirred loose beneath my ribs, pacing, snapping its jaws. She had no idea what she did to me. And that was the real danger.