Lovely obsession

Chapter 4

                                       Melissa
                   "I do not need to prove anything." 

Almost 11 months ago... 

Two days before Melissa's escape...

I sat at the edge of a sleek leather chair in Roman's office, feeling the familiar surroundings weigh on me, now burdened with a cold distance. I crossed my legs, my heel tapping gently against the polished floor as my thoughts spun in my head. Why now, and why had I been summoned to meet with him and Kirill? Especially Kirill.

I hadn't seen him in ages and would have preferred never to see him at all. The mystery behind this meeting gnawed at me, teasing me with silent questions swirling in the quiet of the office.

As I waited, I glanced around the room, taking in the well-crafted walls, the restrained luxury of the furnishings, and the small, personal touches only someone who knew Roman well would notice. Once, I felt safe here—even comfortable. This office had been a sanctuary, a place of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and dreams. Now, it felt alien, devoid of warmth, as if I were intruding in a space that no longer belonged to me. Four years had gone by this way.

The fact that Roman had brought Kirill along was even more disturbing. What reason could they have to need me here, together, in what felt like a pre-planned trap? I tried to remember if there had been any recent incident or decision that could have led to this. Could my actions have been misinterpreted? Could something I said have gotten back to Roman, or worse, to Kirill, twisted and distorted?

I wasn't afraid. Not exactly. I was simply exhausted. Living in this mansion. Seeing Roman. Even the killings or tortures no longer brought me the joy they once had.

Uncertainty twisted in my stomach. I hadn't seen much of Kirill in recent years, but from our limited interactions, I'd learned enough to know he wasn't to be trusted. Even the thought of him made me uncomfortable. He was like a ghost from another life—someone whose intentions I could never fully gauge, whose presence always hinted at some hidden threat. If he was here, it was unlikely to be for something trivial.

Roman, however... He was different. Or, at least, he had been once. It was as if I once knew him deeply, but something had changed between us then—a shift so gradual yet undeniable, it now felt irreversible. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that I had achieved everything I had set out to; I had reached the pinnacle of what this life could offer, but the view from the top had grown grim, lacking the satisfaction I once anticipated.

My gaze drifted toward the large mahogany door, half expecting it to open at any moment. I felt like a defendant awaiting sentencing, uncertain whether I had been called here for praise or punishment. I forced myself to breathe, trying to maintain a calm expression as I straightened my posture, attempting to mask the tension gnawing at my insides. I had started to hate this world.

Yet, questions remained. Had I crossed some invisible boundary? Was there something they held against me, something yet to be revealed? The silence only deepened my unease, casting shadows over memories of happier times spent in this very room. Now, the walls seemed to close in, the silence pressing down on me like an invisible weight. Whatever awaited me ahead, I sensed that the answers would not bring comfort. This was no friendly meeting; it was something entirely different, and I could only hope I was ready for it.

Sitting alone in Roman's dimly lit, luxurious office, my thoughts inevitably returned to Kirill, a man I would rather forget entirely. It wasn't just that I seldom saw him—that would be tolerable—but even those few encounters left a mark I couldn't shake. Sometimes I'd catch his glances on the estate grounds; his presence stirred unease, like the deep cold of night lingering long after sunset.