Hateful obsession

Chapter 19

Fine...I just can't live without writing this book....😅

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                                        Roman
                                 "Our fucking desire."

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred into a kaleidoscope of color as I strode through the bustling crowds, crossing the streets to get to the hotel where Lyn and I had been staying for a week. The vibrant chaos of the city pulsed around me like a living thing, but my thoughts were consumed by another kind of chaos—the one that had taken up residence on my shoulder, seething silently.

Melissa.

Her body sagged against my shoulder, not in defeat but in a kind of stubborn, seething rage. I could feel the tension radiating off her like desert heat, though she said nothing. I adjusted my grip, the muscles in my arms tightening, but my jaw clenching tighter.

Why the hell do I always have to choose the hardest ones?

My footsteps echoed on the sidewalk as we approached the hotel. The blinding lights of the entrance loomed ahead, promising the illusion of safety, the illusion of luxury and peace, but none of it could hide the reality. Not from us.

We have been through too much, but the battle between us is not over.

It all started out simple, or so I thought here. I wanted to do it alone, no strings attached, no distractions. The Vegas mission was dangerous enough without someone watching my back and breathing down my neck with such intensity that I swear I would have ended up seducing my wife and fucking her without even thinking about the fucking traitor.

Hell, I knew how to work alone long before she came into my life. I didn't need her then, and I sure as hell don't need her now. Or at least that's what I kept telling myself.

But then she had to show up.

I should have known better. I should have known she wouldn't let it go. The minute I saw her in the casino, eyes ablaze, jaw clenched in her stubborn manner, I knew what was coming. She'd never been good at taking orders, especially mine. Because if I didn't speak up, it wasn't her business.

She was furious when she saw that I had actually decided to do everything myself. That temper of hers, the same one that made her such a damn good operative, was also the reason why we couldn't last five minutes without butting heads.

It wasn't just about the mission or the assignments.
I could feel it in the way she looked at me: anger barely concealed jealousy.

Jealousy.

That was always our problem, wasn't it? Not just her jealousy of her work, but mine, too - jealousy of her independence, the way she could walk away from everything and never look back. She acted like she didn't need anyone, and I think that's what attracted me to her in the first place. She was fierce, untouchable, and I wanted to be the one to break through that armor.

But now? Now I wasn't so sure.

Maybe that's why I wanted to do this work alone. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of being needed. I didn't want to admit that she had touched a nerve. That she mattered.

And then another thought came to me, tormenting my mind.

Melissa had always had a way of pushing my buttons. Always knew exactly what to say or do to piss me off, to make me reconsider my actions. But this was more than that. There was something else between us—an ugly, raw tension that had been building for weeks. Neither of us wanted to give in, neither of us wanted to acknowledge what we both knew was there.