The Mafia and His Obsession: Part 1 (Tainted Hearts 4)

“I never asked you to wait,” he replied quietly.

Closing my eyes, I brought a hand to my lips—trying hard to hold back my cries. I thought I was strong; I thought I could be strong for both of us.

But with each day, I became weaker, my heart becoming more fragile.

Until it was completely broken.

He turned away from me, facing the other wall. The muscles in his back were rigid. The scars looked hauntingly beautiful, and I choked back a sob.

I loved him…even when he was being a fucking beast, I loved him.

“Then tell me you don’t love me,” I murmured into the darkness of the room.

His hands curled into fists, his shoulders straightening like he had been hit.

“I don’t love you.”

I rubbed my chest, trying to get rid of the pain, but it wouldn’t go away. It hurt. It hurt more than I could ever imagine.

It hurt more than when I saw him bloodied and broken.

“You’re a shitty liar, lyubov moya. Look me in the fucking eyes and tell me you don’t love me.”

I waited for him to turn around and almost wished he wouldn’t. Nikolay could never lie to me. He could never look into my eyes and lie. As long as his back was to me and he whispered those words, I knew he was lying.

But then he turned around.

His eyes met mine, our gazes locked. His were empty, dark…and soulless.

“I don’t love you, Evaline.”

I wished in that moment that I had been shot straight in the heart…I wished I had died. It would have hurt less than hearing him say those words while holding my gaze.

“You don’t love me?” I whispered brokenly.

“No. I don’t love you, Evaline,” he said again.

My lungs squeezed, and I rubbed my chest harder as I fought for breath. My heart felt heavy, and my stomach rolled, like I was going to throw up.

“Is that your final decision?” I asked, my back straightening even when all I wanted to do was crumple to the floor and just disappear.

“Yes.”

I wanted to kneel at his feet and beg him.

“When I walk out of this room, Nikolay, it’s over. Everything is over, do you understand that? You can’t come to me when you lose your mind again—when you fall back into the dark and you completely lose it, you can’t come to me anymore. When your mind is fucked up again and even when your nightmares are fucking killing you, you can’t come to me. I have been doing this for seven years. You’d come to me and I would open my arms and hold you when you needed me. And when you don’t need me anymore, you walk away. You can’t do that anymore,” I said softly.

He didn’t blink, like my words meant nothing. Nikolay just stared at me.

“I will give you nothing. Is that what you want?” I asked, hoping he would say no…hoping he would hold me and apologize. I just wanted his arms around me; I just wanted to melt into his embrace.

But he gave me nothing.

“Yes.”

One word. Just one fucking word and he ended everything.

“I won’t wait for you anymore. I won’t fight for you anymore,” I whispered, my tears blinding my vision.

He nodded without a word.

We stared at each other—and I hoped he could see what he had done. He broke us. He broke me. I stared into his eyes, hoping I could see even one bit of humanity in it.

Nikolay just looked…dead.

Finally, I shifted my gaze away, and I held the bedsheets tightly around my body as I took a step forward. He didn’t move as I walked closer.

His eyes stayed on my face as I went on my tip-toes. My mouth touched his scarred cheek, and I laid gentle kisses the length of his scars.

He hissed quietly, a quick intake of breath that broke me further.

I stepped back, our eyes meeting again. Swiping my tears away and with a final glance, I walked away.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it.

A minute later, something crashed against the wall. I heard him—his anger, his pain.

“You are such a shitty liar, Nikolay.”

But it didn’t matter anymore. His words had hit me right where he wanted them to. There was no taking them back—he couldn’t unbreak us.

Touching the doors, I placed my lips softly against it.

“Good bye, lyubov moya.”

Chapter 12

Viktor

I tried to ignore Ayla’s moan when I passed their room, but my feet stopped, and I leaned against the door, my chest aching.

The bed squeaked, and she moaned louder—Alessio’s name on her lips.

Not being able to bear it any longer, I stalked away, and at the end of the hall where my room was, I slammed the door harder than needed, but the anger inside of me, the buried jealousy, was now burning.

I tugged my tie off roughly and practically ripped my shirt off as I got naked. I needed a cold fucking shower and to fuck Ayla out of my head.