Page 8 of The Art of Obsession

Cherry pouts.

“Um…”

He drops his arms, and I can nearly feel his frustration needling my spine as he stabs a finger at me. “Um is not an appropriate response. I expect so much more from a historian, Little Quill. Do you know what separates themastervillains from the villains?”

I heave a sigh, knowing this one. “Presentation.”

He’s grinning behind the mask, isn’t he?

“Clever girl.”

Oh, we totally have a praise kink!

“This is not simply for show, I assure you, Everleigh.” He sweeps his cape to the side and paces like a predator, keeping his side profile to me. “It is a part of my psyche just as your passion as a historian is for you. So, tell me, for the history books, your impressions.” He taps his chin. “Describe me as you would when recording in your pretty, leather logbook.”

I’m in love…Cherry melts.

I take a deep breath, ignoring her and forming words, picturing them like the letters I scrawl with my quill. “Well, for posterity’s sake, then,” I begin, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. “Your entrance is theatrical, perfectly executed with confidence and control. You command the room with an irresistible allure. Your presence is maniacal but purposeful like bloody ink on paper. It’s the kind of drama only the most unforgettable figures in history can pull off—imposing, charismatic, and…undeniably captivating.”

I don’t take my eyes off him. Damn that tilting head.

My words are firm, but inside, Cherry stirs, her little voice echoing,He’s everything you’ve dreamed of and more.

“Ahh, Little Quill,” he deepens his voice and closes the distance between us again, spinning my pulse. “You are perfect. I will immortalize you in my work, every flaw and perfection preserved. My deepest and darkest dream.” He traces the contours of my face.

Oh, honey, she’s the daydream.I’mthe nightmare.Cherry blows a kiss.

“What now?” I whisper, meeting the scarlet-tipped darkness of his eyes.

“Now…” He urges my chin toward him, forcing my neck into an arch. “We play.”

4

I am the artist of her every dream and nightmare

Chapter Playlist:

“Cat and Mouse” – Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

“Bad Moon Rising” – Mourning Ritual Cover

“Hide and Seek” - Nightcore

ACHERON

She isthe ink in my veins, the stroke in my hand.

She doesn’t recognize me. Not surprising, but it is quite endearing. And it makes me all the more determined to possess her. A blank canvas on one hand and suppressed trauma on the other.

I will squeeze every drop of trauma from her heart and soul and use it like new paint…spreading it across the pages of her life, layer by layer until she is mine in every shade and shadow.

With her lovely neck arched and exposed to me, Everleigh narrows her eyes, suspicion flickering in their depths. She’s trying so hard to mask her fear, her doubt, but I see it all.

“What does “play” mean?” she asks, her lower lip quivering.

I smile behind my mask and declare, “I’m going to give you a twelve-minute head start.” I lower my gloved fingers to the dark waves draped across her arm, the back of my hand nudging the lower swell of her plump breast. I have no qualms of invading her space and letting the weight of my presence press against her. She will learn to accept my mastering her, staking my claim to whatever I desire.

When her brows lift at my mention, I raise a finger and wag it, deflating her hopes. “You won’t escape the manor. That’s impossible. But there isoneroom—just one—that can be locked. If you find it and lock yourself inside, I will take my leave. I’ll disappear, like a specter into the night.”