Mr. Mafia's Obsession: His Darkest Desire

I cried so hard that day in the school bathroom that the walls practically echoed with the sound. My sobs bounced off the tiles, sharp and bitter, like broken glass scattered around me.

I cursed her name until my voice trembled.

She took what I had always wanted. She didn’t even realize what she had stolen. It didn’t matter, because the damage was already done.

But they dated, and Ethan seemed genuinely happy. I had never seen him smile with that kind of brightness before, full of warmth and life. It hurt, but I forced myself to swallow it and pretend I was fine.

I tried to be proud of him and tried to be the “good friend,” but every attempt felt like another crack in my chest.

I kept telling myself that losing him meant nothing, but the lie never stuck. Inside, I quietly fell apart.

Eventually, I stared at my reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror and made a promise to myself.

I told myself to move on, to take back control of my life. That moment felt like the beginning of something new, even if it hurt.

Maybe that was when I realized I was meant to be a sister, not a girl hopelessly in love with someone who never loved me back.

I tried to bury those memories and the ache that came with them. I thought it would be easier if I let everything go.

And then they broke up.

Ava dumped Ethan for the new school hottie.

Their relationship collapsed so quickly it felt like watching a paper wall fall apart in the rain.

“Elysia…” Ethan’s voice was warm when he opened his apartment door that evening, and he gave me a smile that almost looked foreign.

He hugged me before I could speak, and the familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around me like a memory I wasn’t ready for.

This was only my second time here, but the silence inside the apartment made it feel like a stranger’s home.

The last time I had been here, the place had been full of laughter. Now it felt empty and uncomfortable, as if the air had been drained out. I stood there trying to breathe normally.

“Wow, look at you,” I said, trying to lighten the tension between us. “How long has it been?”

“A year,” he said with a small chuckle that didn’t match his eyes. “Too long, honestly.”

“Feels longer,” I murmured.

He gestured toward the couch. “Please, sit.”

I sat down and smoothed my habit with nervous fingers. Every movement felt louder in the room than it should have.

“What should I get you?” he asked as he stood over me.

“Just water,” I said quietly.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

I watched him disappear around the corner toward what I assumed was the kitchen. My eyes wandered around the apartment, taking in the shining furniture, the spotless floors, and the expensive decor.

His parents had always been wealthy, and the room still looked more like a showroom than an actual living space.

“There you go,” he said when he returned and handed me a glass of water.

“Thank you,” I whispered and took a slow sip. My throat felt dry, but the water tasted strange.

“You’re welcome,” he said, watching me carefully.

His gaze softened for a moment before sharpening again, as if he was studying every shift in my expression.

“How’ve you been, Elysia?” he asked quietly.

“You look different… beautiful, even. But I won’t lie — it hurts knowing you’re in the convent now.”

Oh, really.

“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” I replied firmly.

He lifted an eyebrow and leaned back. “Really? Because in high school you wanted college, psychology, maybe business. You used to talk about it all the time.”

“People change, Ethan,” I said, trying not to sound irritated. “Everyone has the right to choose what they want for themselves.”

He stared at me longer than necessary, his gaze heavy and unsettling. It felt like he was trying to read my mind or peel apart my thoughts.

A strange coldness crept into my chest.

“Ethan, are you okay?” I asked gently as I set the glass down on the table.

“Of course,” he said, forcing a shaky smile. “Are you done drinking?”

“Not really.”

I took another sip to steady myself, but something in my vision flickered at the edges. I blinked twice, trying to clear the sudden dizziness spreading through my head.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

“Yeah… maybe just a little dizzy,” I murmured.

I tried to laugh it off, but even my voice sounded weak.

My head felt heavier with each second. My palms grew damp against the fabric of my habit. Something inside me began to twist with fear.

Ethan leaned closer, and that strange, fixed smile stayed on his face. The shift in his expression made my stomach drop.

What is happening to me?

He dragged his chair nearer until our knees almost touched. His presence felt overwhelming now.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Liana?” he asked softly, his tone darker than before. His hand rested on my thigh as if he had every right to touch me.

I flinched. “Ethan— what are you doing?” My voice barely escaped my throat, weak and trembling. I tried to pull back, but my limbs felt too heavy to move.

“Nothing,” he said, his breath unsteady. “I just can’t stop admiring you. I wish you’d stop this convent decision and let me love you, Ely.”

“What?” My heart dropped into my stomach.

This wasn’t Ethan.

Not the boy who rescued cats from trees.

Not the boy who carried my books and teased me about my handwriting.

Not the boy who used to sit beside me in class and draw tiny hearts in the margins of my notebook.

I tried to stand up, but my legs trembled beneath me. I could barely hold myself upright.

“Ethan… did you put something in the water?”

His smile cracked for a single second before he covered it again. “Just something to help you relax. I need you to actually listen to me for once.”

Relax.

No.

This wasn’t relaxation — this was helplessness settling into my bones.

“Ethan, why would you do that?” My voice shook uncontrollably.

“You’re my best friend. We’ve known each other our whole lives. I’m going to take my vows tomorrow. Why would you do something like this?”

“Forget the church!” he shouted suddenly, and the force of it made me jump.

His anger filled the room like smoke.

He ran a hand through his hair, agitated and frantic.

“I want you, Elysia. I’ve always wanted you. I’m not losing you to some convent or some vow or God or anyone.”

Terror crept slowly up my spine like ice water.

“Ethan… you’re scaring me,” I whispered.

He stood abruptly and paced the room, muttering to himself.

His movements were sharp, angry, and unrecognizable, like a stranger had borrowed his body.

“Everything I’ve ever done,” he said with a trembling voice, “was for you. And now you’re running away into a life where I don’t belong.”

My head pounded harder, as if each word made the room spin faster. I felt trapped inside my own body, unable to move or think clearly.

Before I could gather my thoughts, he lunged toward me. His hands were rough and desperate as he grabbed my arms and shoved me back against the couch.

I tried to scream, but the sound came out broken, swallowed by fear.

“Stop… please stop,” I cried, pushing at his chest, but he didn’t care.

His fingers dug into my skin as he tore at my clothes. The ripping sound echoed in the room like a threat. My dress split open. My underwear snapped against my skin before he ripped it away completely.

I curled my legs, trying to protect myself, but he forced them apart with a strength that made my whole body shake.

“No! Please—don’t—” My voice cracked.

He didn’t listen.

He didn’t even pause.

Pain tore through me so violently that my scream broke into a sob. Tears streamed down my face as I clawed at the sheets, anything, trying to escape the agony spreading through me.

“It hurts—please—stop—it hurts—!” I cried out, but he pressed harder, ignoring my shaking, ignoring my pain, ignoring the sound of my voice ripping apart.

Every movement felt like fire cutting through my body.

It felt like my bones were breaking.

I could barely breathe. I choked on my own tears.

My nails scraped the floor. My legs trembled uncontrollably as I tried to push him away, but he held me down easily, as if my struggle meant nothing.

I begged him again and again. I screamed until my throat burned. But he never stopped.

He acted as if my pain didn’t matter.

As if I didn’t matter.

When it finally ended, he pulled away with no emotion at all, breathing hard but calm, as if he had simply finished something he felt entitled to.

I lay there shaking violently, unable to close my legs, unable to lift my arms, unable to stop the sobs pouring out of me.

Every part of me hurt. My body felt torn apart. I could not even hold myself together.

He returned with a pile of clothes — his clothes — and placed them beside me with a strange calmness that sent chills through me. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

“You should put these on,” he said softly.

“I don’t hate you, Elysia. I want to take care of you. I want to be your boyfriend.”

The word “boyfriend” sent a sharp twist through my stomach. He wasn’t acting like himself. He wasn’t thinking like himself. Something had snapped inside him.

With trembling hands, I gathered the torn remains of my habit. Shame and fear pressed against my ribs like knives.

I felt exposed, cornered, and broken in ways I couldn’t fully understand.

“I hope God forgives you, Ethan,” I whispered. My voice cracked, small and fragile. “Because I don’t know if I can.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, something unreadable flickered there.

It wasn’t regret.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said quietly. “I’m not leaving you. I want to be with you.”

“You’re not okay,” I managed, my voice shaking. “You’re pretending this is nothing. Ethan… you drugged me. You manipulated me. You took advantage of our friendship. That is not love.”