His Psychotic Obsession

Chapter seventeen

Rowan

I watch as Dr. Matts wraps gauze over Elara's arm tightly.

He freezes as Elara stirs, a quiet groan passing through her plump lips.

I watch closely as she slowly opens her eyes. She winces and squeezes them close and then opens them again, squinting. I slightly tilt my head, admiring her beautiful hazel eyes. They never fail to make my heart beat faster, and my breath gets caught in my lungs.

She looks over to her bandaged arm, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Don't move too much miss." Dr. Matts tells her, standing up to grab the cup of water sitting on the table.

I stand, walking over to the doctor and taking the cup out of his gloved hand. "I got it from here. You may go." I say, making my way over to Elara.

Elara, who's now upright, watching my every move. I pay attention to the fire burning in her eyes. She always seems to be angry with me. Not sure why.

I stand before her, looking down at those hazel eyes once again. They shimmer with anger.

I hand the cup of water to her. "Drink," I command. There's no way she's not dehydrated.

She stares at me for a couple of seconds before looking at the cup.

In a swift movement, the cup is knocked out of my hand, spilling all over my rug.

I chuckle looking at the spill, then looking at an angry Elara.

"Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are when you are angry mio amore?"

She scoffs and goes to stand, stumbling slightly. I shoot my arms out to steady her, but she slaps them away.

"I'm leaving." She tells me, standing mere inches from me.

I tilt my head, "Are you now?"

I swear I see her eye twitch.

She pushes past me, walking toward the door. When she goes to tug, she finds it won't budge.

She tries again, grunting.

I walk slowly towards her, pulling out my phone.

She turns around, her mouth open ready to speak, but I cut her off.

I hold up my phone, "New security. Doors only unlock when I unlock them."

She shakes her head, jogging over to the side door in the kitchen. Nothing.

Her breathing starts to pick up as she runs over to the back door, that leads to the garden. No budge.

She stands a few feet away from me, tears prickling her eyes. "Why?" She croaks.

I walk closer to her, close enough to the point where I can feel her breath on my chest. I lean down to her ear, whispering, "I can't have a pretty thing like you running away from me now can I?"

I turn my head staring down at her beautiful yet devastated face.

"Your lips look so kissable mio amore," I whisper.

She backs away from me, "They aren't yours to kiss."

I stand back to my height. "Not yet. But when the time is right, I want you to beg for me to mark them as mine."

A single tear slips down her cheek. "You can't do this to me."

I take a step towards her once more, "I just did."

She pushes my body, picking up the fire poker that rested by the fireplace in the living room, and be-lines for the window.

I stumble, pain shooting through my body. Her presence had made me forget I was shot..by her might I add. Don't worry, I got it all wrapped and treated, but damn it was a bitch.

I collect myself and run after her, but she's quick and throws the poker with all her strength at the window.

It bounces off with a thud and falls to the floor with a clank.

I stop and watch as she defeatedly slumps to the ground with a sob.

I feel a twist in my chest as I watch the tears continuously fall down her rosy cheeks.

Cautiously, I kneel before her. Quiet cries rack her body, her head in her hands.

I reach out and carefully pull her hands away from her face. She sniffles and looks away.

I lightly clutch her cold, soft hands in my warm roughed ones. A perfect fit.

I speak to her, soft and low, "You may not understand now amore, but you are mine. You were mine the second you looked at me in the alley. You are mine just as much as I am yours."

Her cries slow down, and she looks at me. Replaced with defeat and sadness, is the familiar anger. Shimmering bright.

She pulls her hands from mine. "I will never be yours." She seethes.

I mentally shake my head. It seems she doesn't understand.

"You already are," I tell her, standing back up, dusting off no existent dust off my sleeves.

She looks up at me with disgust, anger, sadness, weakness. Just where I wanted her.

"I'm gonna make this clear for you Elara," I speak.

"You can crumble before me, cry for something you can't change, be weak, defenseless, fragile."

Her body shakes with unspoken words. Her fist resting on her knees clenched.

"Or, you can rise, take my hand, and vow yourself to me. Vow to be by my side. You can rule, not in my shadow, but in your own spotlight. If you take my hand, you will become a stronger, better version of yourself. No more will you be the little girl who cries because Daddy won't give her attention. No, mio amore. He will beg for your attention."

She releases a breath, staring down at her hands.

"What will it be my Elara?" I hold my hand out to her.

She looks up at me, a thousand thoughts in her eyes. But only one stands out.

Slowly, she grabs my hand, rising to her feet.

She stands in front of me, tears long gone, with a sense of purpose on her face.

I pull her to me, my hand resting on her lower back.

"Your name shall be the one people fear the most," I whisper.

She releases a breath, a slight shiver racking her body.

"I save people. I don't kill them." She whispers, her head bowed low.

I remove my hand from her back and tilt her head to see those hazel eyes once more.

"Anyone who dies at your hands should consider it a blessing."

She shakes her head, "I can't, I save people it's what I do best."

I tilt my head, "Then why would you take my hand?"

She looks into my eyes, fear swirls in her own.

"Don't worry mio amore, I'll teach you." I softly say, pulling her body to mold into my own.

She fits so perfectly.

Her body tenses and shakes.

If saving people is the best she's at, just imagine the destruction she can cause.