Page 105 of The Art of Obsession

Her fragile whisper of submission is the loveliest ruin in my heart.

“If you want me to stay?—”

“You have no choice.”

— “No more killing, Cal. No more torture. No moreshows. You want to fight for me. Then fight for us.” She squeezes my fingers. “No more them. Only us.”

My chest tightens with the knowledge of what she’s asking. The gravity of my dark hunger.

She heaves a sigh, her dark waves fracturing her face. “I am not…I’d never ask you to give up your very alchemy. The art doesn’t stop. Buttheydo. Let me be for you and you alone, Cal.”

My nostrils flare with my disbelief. “Now, you’re messing with my mind.”

“Let me fight for you, too.” Everleigh touches her palm to my chest, and it feels like a cruel blade digging in.

“Okay. No more exhibits. Including tonight’s. I don’t give a fuck about the fallout. I’ll let you fight for me, Everleigh…Callum.”

Her brows lift, her eyes widening at the proclamation I’ve just made. I also don’t give a fuck for any legally binding paperwork. She’s closer than a wife. She may as well bear my name.

And just as I think the moment is finally calming, the alarm blares.

The sound cuts through the room like a lightning strike. She gasps. My body tenses, my mind racing as I pull away from her, my focus narrowing.

I look at her, trying to calm her with a steady gaze. “Stay here,” I order, my voice low but firm. “Do not leave this room.”

She looks at me with a snide expression, her eyes still red from crying. “Where am I supposed to go?” she snaps.

I don’t answer her. I don’t need to. I turn quickly, exiting the room with urgency ripping through me.

I move swiftlythrough the corridors, the alarm brewing in my chest. The decoy exhibit is just ahead, and I know something’s gone wrong. Someone has triggered the trap.

When I enter the decoy room, I find Jonathan “Roulette” Rippers there, his eyes wide with confusion. The setup is perfect. But something doesn’t sit right. Rippers is a fool, but he’s not the one who left the brooch.

Security quickly takes him into custody, but I’m not convinced. I know he isn’t responsible. There’s something deeper at play here, and I need to get to the bottom of it.

Just as I’m about to head back to the exhibit, the explosion hits.

The ground shakes violently, and the walls tremble as if the very foundation of the building is being torn apart. A thousand hammers thunder in my chest from the impact. The sound is deafening, a relentless ringing in my ears, followed by the shrillscream of alarms. The lights flicker, and then darkness envelops the space, emergency lights casting an eerie red glow.

Gunshots ring out, echoing through the tunnels. My men scramble to respond, their voices lost in the chaos.

But none of that matters.

All I can think about is her.

I race back toward the exhibit, the sound of explosions and gunfire growing louder with each step. The tunnel ahead of me has partially collapsed, but I don’t stop. I can’t.

She’s in danger.

I push forward, my heart pounding in my chest, the only thought in my mind:Everleigh.

And just as I stagger into the hall leading to the exhibit, something hard collides with my skull, sending crippling pain howling through my head. I crumple to the floor.

Everything turns black.

46

Freedom doesn’t feel like I thought it would