The Twisted Obsession
Mature content[R-18+] NO RAPE~ ~What happens when a psychopath falls in love?~ The infamous wallflower and sole heiress of the Falcone empire, Abigail Falcone, was a loner, shy, and reserved. She did not know how to socialize or even how to love until she met him. Desperate to escape her scheming relatives, Abby sought a favor from her late best friend’s fiancé—a marriage of convenience. No one would have ever paired the shy, stammering wallflower with the sinfully handsome mafia leader. However, it quickly becomes clear that Abby is a woman of hidden strength—and Remo Quinn finds his dead heart beating once again. Wary but tempted, she struggles to get through the arrangement without stripping herself of her morals and losing her heart to her husband—a man so beautiful and broken, he will hurt her as much as he will love her. While seeking revenge and amidst the sultry heat of their forbidden desires and secret fears, will Abigail find the love that will change her life forever? Or will she face the punishment of falling for her deceased best friend's fiancé? What happens when Remo finds out his little shy wallflower wife is a little sly fox? ——————————— ——————————— Excerpt ~ "Beg me to use you, Abby," he growled, his voice husky with desire. Abby's breath caught in her throat as she struggled to comply with his demand. With a mixture of arousal and trepidation, she managed to whisper, "Please ...Remo..." But Remo wasn't satisfied with just her words. He wanted to see her beg, to hear the desperation in her voice. With a wicked grin, he applied a bit more pressure to her thighs, a hint of pain mingling with pleasure. "Words, little sweet doll. Beg me," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. The sensation sent a jolt of arousal coursing through Abby's veins, her resolve crumbling under Remo's intoxicating dominance. With a whimper of surrender, she found herself uttering the words he desired, her voice trembling with need. "Please...use me," she pleaded, her heart racing as she surrendered herself to the delicious torment of Remo's touch. Trigger warnings; Self-harm, mental illness, rough sexual acts etc.
Whispers
The next few days passed in a blur. Abby was recovering physically, her wound healing faster than expected, but there was something else that weighed heavily in the air. Something that neither Remo nor Abby could name, but both could feel.
Abby had noticed the shift in her thoughts. Small things at first—misplaced items, forgotten moments—but it was easy to write off as stress. She was recovering from a traumatic experience after all. She told herself it was normal. But then, the whispers began.
It started as faint murmurs at the edge of her mind, a voice she couldn't place. A nagging sensation that she wasn't alone, even when the room was empty. She tried to ignore it, to chalk it up to exhaustion and anxiety, but the voices grew louder with each passing day, their words indistinct but persistent. They spoke to her in moments of silence, a constant, maddening hum.