OBSESSION OF THE FALLEN

presence. The kind of presence that could fill a room with a suffocating tension without a single word. But it was Lena Russo

catching the soft light from the desk lamp. His mind was far f

e

in. She was not like the others who had come before her docile, compliant, easily

in the foyer earlier, eyes blazing with defiance, her chin lifted in challenge. The way she held her

k, and he was the gasol

known power how to wield it, how to control it. But Lena... she had the power to test his control, to make him question everything he knew about himself. He

ticeable, hidden behind her pride and defiance but they were there. He just had to be patient. He would wait, bide his time. He wasn't interest

her struggle. Let her th

amed energy, made him wonder how much of her fire could be burned away by his touch. He wasn't naive he knew it wouldn't be easy. Women like Lena w

e had stirred in him. He walked toward the window, his mind still consumed by her. His eyes scanned the

, untouchable, unyielding

is was different. Lena was his challenge. She was more than just another piece of the puzzle. She was his

w that refused to leave. It wasn't just about physical control. It was about something deeper.

er resistance faded and she surrendered to him completely? She had no idea how inevitable it was, how every second she

s side, the need for co

e finally extinguished. He imagined her eyes, no longer defiant, but soft with trust. He could almos

cate dance. He wanted to savor every moment, every inch of pr

his expression as neutral as always. "Sir," he said, his voice

s of Lena. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to be pulled away fr

trolled. But beneath it, there was an undercurrent of something

or clicked softly behind him, leaving X

e

be patient. He would make her understand. He would make her need him. She would see, in time, that there was no escape from him

his. She just di

hadows in the room. He would have her, and he would break her i

-