Page 4 of Sweet Obsession (Savage Vow #1)
Her head remained down, eyes fixed on her lap. The tears welled up in her eyes, but she stayed silent, shaking her head. I gripped her arms, forcing her to look at me. “Gabi, I can’t protect you if you don’t let me in. Don’t you trust me?” My voice broke as I pleaded, my hands trembling.
I sat back on my heels, fists clenched so hard my nails bit into my palms.
“If you don’t tell me, I swear to god, I will burn this whole fucking house down to find out who’s doing this to you.” My voice was a low growl, the fury bubbling up like molten lava.
I stood.
“You’re not marrying Misha,” I said, voice shaking with rage. “I don’t care what Papa promised. I’ll find a way. I swear it.”
Gabriela didn’t answer.
She just stared at me with hollow eyes.
As if she already knew the promises I made wouldn’t be enough.
I stormed back angrily to my room.
Who is hurting my little sister? And why is she so scared to tell me about it? Ever since my mother's demise, I have practically stepped into my mother's position but Gabi still didn’t trust me enough to tell me what she’s going through.
I was restless. Staying here in my room felt very uncomfortable. I should lock the door and sleep with a knife under my pillow like I used to when the world still made sense. But I couldn’t.
A sudden text from Yuri pinged my phone, saying he was downstairs with a few of his friends, “celebrating early.”
He added a smiley face emoji like we were kids passing notes.
Since I didn’t want to stay in my room, I saw it as an opportunity to occupy my mind. I was still angry at Yuri, and I would do whatever I could to make sure the marriage didn’t go through—at least not in two weeks as planned.
I left my room. I might have been stupid enough to go but I told myself I was just going to watch.
Not drink.
Not get involved.
But the second I stepped onto the lower patio, the part of the estate Papa rarely used, I knew I’d made a mistake.
Low music thrummed from portable speakers.
Expensive whiskey bottles lined the stone railing.
Three men lounged on the sofas, smoke curling from their cigars, eyes sharp and assessing.
Yuri smiled when he saw me.
Or at least bared his teeth.
“There’s my fiancée,” he said loudly, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Come join the party, baby.”
I stiffened under his touch but forced a smile.
For now.
He shoved a drink into my hand before I could refuse. Something fruity and sickly sweet.
I sipped once to be polite.
It tasted wrong. Too strong.
But I set it down after one swallow and made a show of leaning back against the cushions.
“Where are your two charming brothers?” I asked, letting the sarcasm drip.
“Around,” he said vaguely.
I frowned.
The way he said it.
Like he didn’t want me asking.
“You never told me what family you’re part of,” I said.
“You’ll know soon enough,” he said, brushing it off. “All you need to know is I’m gonna take good care of you. Real good.”
His fingers slipped lower along my waist.
I jerked away, standing up, the world tilting slightly under my feet.
Weird.
I’d barely had anything.
Yuri laughed again, uglier this time.
“You’re wound so fucking tight,” he said. “Can’t wait for our wedding night. Bet you’re a real screamer when someone finally gets inside that stuck-up little pussy of...”
I slapped him before he finished the sentence.
The sound cracked the air, freezing the men around us.
His head snapped sideways, his mouth forming a thin, incredulous line.
For a beat, he stood frozen, as if the slap hadn’t registered in his mind. Then, a low chuckle rumbled in his chest, but it was laced with malice. “You’re gonna pay for that, baby,” he purred, his eyes darkening as his hand hovered dangerously close to me.
The men around him laughed, but it was hollow and unsettling.
The patio swam before my eyes.
Shit.
I stumbled backward, clutching the railing.
I’d barely had anything, but already the edges of my vision were blurring.
The taste was wrong—too strong, like the drink was cutting through me like fire.
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog from my mind, but the world kept spinning.
My legs wobbled beneath me, and I reached for the railing for support.
Something wasn’t right. I knew it in the way the room tilted unnaturally, the world suddenly moving too fast around me.
He did something to the drink.
I blinked hard, trying to steady myself. I knew coming was a stupid idea, not after what he did hours ago.
“I don’t feel good,” I muttered.
Yuri stood, catching my elbow in a too-firm grip.
“Maybe you just need to lie down,” he said. “I’ll help you.”
Panic clawed at my throat.
No.
No way was I letting him take me somewhere alone.
I pulled away, but the ground dipped under my feet, and my vision blurred.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard footsteps.
Sharp and measured.
A chill swept over me.
Even drugged, even half-conscious, my body recognized the presence before my mind caught up.
Misha.
I didn’t know how long he’d been watching,
He stepped into the patio light like a blade drawn from a scabbard.
No words.
Just one look at Yuri.
Yuri froze.
“Just partying,” Yuri said, too quickly. “No trouble here.”
Misha didn’t even acknowledge him.
His eyes were locked on me.
Assessing. Calculating.
Without a word, he crossed the space between us, one hand settling at my lower back.
I stiffened.
The heat of his touch branded straight through the thin fabric of my dress.
He leaned down, voice like gravel brushed with ice:
“Can you walk?”
I tried to nod.
Failed.
He caught me before I could hit the floor.
Misha’s hand on my back felt like ice against the heat of my skin.
His touch was possessive, like he had a right to it, like he had always had a right to it.
I should have resisted. I should have screamed.
But my body... my body just surrendered.
I didn’t understand why. It wasn’t fear—was it something else?
No. But in that moment, I couldn’t figure it out. I felt too numb, too dizzy.
He lifted me like I weighed nothing.
The men didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Misha didn’t look at them.
Didn’t offer an explanation.
He just carried me away.