A Test of Obsession
Orsini’s mind snapped back into focus only after he had rescued Isabel from the bandits.
The noisy forest, the situation spiraling into chaos, his mother Chloe howling senselessly, and the Empress pretending none of it concerned her.
And Canna, watching the entire scene with leisurely detachment.
Orsini looked at her profile and let out a soft, bitter laugh. There was no evidence, no proof at all, yet he was certain.
This was a scenario Canna had written.
Everyone was dancing atop her chessboard.
“Canna will carve up the Addis family. Just as her mother did, that wench will tear Addis apart!”
The words his mother had repeated to him since childhood suddenly flashed through his mind.
Had it been a prophecy?
It had come true.
Discord that had never existed between Orsini, Kallen, and Isabel had bloomed. Alexandro and Chloe were headed for divorce.
And at the center of it all stood Canna.
Every single one of them had been caught in the spiderweb she had spun.
The moment he faced that truth, a chill raced down the back of his neck.
What the hell am I doing right now?
He had laughed at Kallen for circling Canna like a dog, yet here he was, behaving no differently.
While self-loathing and torment gripped him, he noticed that Kallen was harboring some strange scheme.
After purchasing the island, Kallen had bribed its residents and presented the whole thing to Canna as a gift.
Something is going on.
Seized by a dark premonition, Orsini had slipped onto the island and hidden himself. There, he discovered a single outsider.
A suspicious man.
He was pretending to be an islander, but those eyes could not be hidden.
His prediction had been correct. After beating the man until his bones were powder, Orsini learned the stranger had been scheduled to secretly smuggle Canna away.
Someone was helping her.
Yet no matter how thoroughly he broke the man’s body, the helper’s identity never left his lips. That much remained unknown.
One thing, however, was certain: Canna intended to flee.
And sure enough, she had leapt onto the boat where he waited disguised as a boatman.
“Do you like it?”
His shoulders stiffened.
“I asked if you like it.”
Canna turned around—very slowly, excruciatingly slowly.
The instant their eyes met—hers black pools flooded with shock—Orsini knew.
This woman is going to destroy me.
Just as she had ruined Kallen, he too would be pathetically shattered.
Not yet.
At least he still had a chance. The chance to break her before she could break him.
As expected, Canna tried to kill him. The situation unfolded so perfectly according to his expectations that it was almost comical.
Orsini finally made his decision.
Yes. Let’s kill her.
He had never once spared someone who tried to kill him. He had never failed to kill an opponent once he set his mind to it. Therefore—
Let’s end everything here.
But he failed.
He failed miserably.
Canna regained consciousness inside a haze of excruciating pain.
“Damn it……”
Her leg burned as though it were on fire. The curse flew from her lips the moment she woke.
A voice reached her then.
“Awake already?”
Canna whipped her head to the side.
Orsini sat in a chair right beside the bed, watching her.
“……”
That’s right. This bastard had slammed her into the sea.
Canna ground her teeth as the memory before she blacked out resurfaced.
“Son of a bitch.”
“I don’t particularly want to hear that from the woman who tried to stab me to death with a poisoned needle.”
“Shut your mouth. I should have killed you long ago.”
“Now you’re saying what I should be saying.”
Son of a bitch. You rotten, unlucky bastard. Just drop dead already.
She spat curses and tried to sit up. A bolt of agony lanced through her leg.
“Ugh.”
It hurts so much…!
Orsini clicked his tongue as he watched. Then he snatched the crutches leaning against the wall and tossed them at her.
“What is this?”
“A doctor came.”
Several packets of medicine flew over next.
“He said your leg is in bad shape. Be careful for a while.”
Her mood plummeted. After trying to kill her, he was giving advice?
“Mind your own business. Where are we?”
“A hotel.”
“The Ramas Kingdom?”
“Yes.”
Thank goodness.
Canna breathed an inward sigh of relief. At least she had reached her destination. The plan had not gone too far off course.
If only that son of a bitch weren’t here, it would have been perfect.
That son of a bitch. The obstacle in her life. That leech.
Still, she crushed her emotions down. Now was not the time to be swept away by rage.
It wasn’t over yet.
“How did you know to wait for me on that boat?”
“It just happened.”
Of course he wouldn’t tell her. She hadn’t expected him to.
Fortunately, it seemed he still didn’t know about Joanna’s help or the detailed plan to reach Yalden.
If he had known, he never would have followed me so obediently to the Ramas Kingdom—my escape route.
At that moment Orsini tossed a bundle of papers onto the bed.
A newspaper.
“Looks like you pulled off something quite entertaining yourself.”
It had already made the papers. How fast.
Everyone seems to have been properly deceived.
Yet she could not fully rejoice. Orsini was staring straight at her with both eyes wide open.
He asked, suspicion thick in his voice.
“They said you committed suicide. What trick did you use?”
“It just happened.”
Canna returned the exact same empty answer he had given her. Then she added brazenly, “The newspaper says it all. Canna Addis is dead.”
“Then who is the woman sitting in front of me?”
Orsini snorted and draped one arm lazily over the back of the chair.
“If Kallen knew you were alive, he would be overjoyed.”
Canna glared at him, then let out a long sigh.
“What do you plan to do with me now?”
“Well. What should I do?”
Orsini stared intently into her face.
“What do you want me to do?”
“If I tell you, will you listen?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
So he would do as he pleased.
“Don’t drag me back to Addis.”
“All right. And?”
Canna’s brows drew together. Did he just agree?
“Don’t tell anyone I’m alive.”
“And?”
It felt suspicious. She had the growing sensation of walking into a trap.
“Let me leave alone.”
“That would be difficult. But I’ll consider the first two requests.”
She was stunned. Whether she imagined it or not, those words sounded like acceptance.
Was he saying he would cooperate with her escape?
Why?
I tried to kill you.
But the conversation ended there.
Orsini rose from the chair and moved to the sofa. When he lay down, his long legs dangled halfway off the cushions. He didn’t seem to care—like a wild animal that cared nothing for comfort.
“Sleep. It’s late. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
He muttered with his eyes already closed. He seemed to fall asleep almost instantly.
Canna stared at him in a daze.
There was no way she could sleep like this.
She rose from the bed and limped over to the sofa. Orsini did not open his eyes.
Was he truly asleep, or only pretending?
Why is he acting like this?
He had been so aggressive—when had that changed? Why had he suddenly become docile? Why had he saved her? Why was he following her? Why was he listening to her demands?
And why…?
Why did he look at me that way?
The expression on his face as he watched her flailing in the sea.
Those eyes—like glass windows battered by a storm, ready to shatter at any moment—kept flickering before her.
There was definitely something there, but she could not tell what it was.
It might even be his fatal weakness…
Canna pondered deeply, then gave up. This was not a problem thinking alone could solve.
She would have to test it boldly.
She sat carefully at the edge of the sofa and reached out, stroking his cheek.
The moment her fingers touched him, Orsini’s eyelids slowly lifted.
“Move your hand. Before I cut it off.”
Everything about him was rigid.
His cheek, his gaze, his voice—so stiff he almost looked tense.
Perhaps…
Canna did not withdraw her hand. Instead she moved her thumb, gently caressing his cheek.
His eyes trembled at the touch.
It was as if every curse on his lips had been washed away. A tidal wave swept over him, swallowing everything in its path.
Canna witnessed it all.
Oh my god.
She wanted to laugh at him, but instead she whispered.
“Don’t you like it?”
“Crazy bitch.”
Orsini’s eyes burned. Those will-o’-the-wisp eyes that had once looked terrifying now seemed almost pathetic.
But it wasn’t enough. She needed more certainty.
Canna lowered her head.
Her glossy black hair spilled down, cascading over his forehead and cheeks. Their faces drew closer.
Orsini stopped breathing.
She could see it—his breath, his gaze, everything freezing in this single moment.
Canna lowered her lips toward his cheek, then stopped abruptly.
A hair’s breadth away.
In that precarious space, only the warmth of her breath brushed across his cheek. Orsini’s eyelashes fluttered with a tiny spasm.
The temperature between them slowly rose. The tension stretched taut like a wire.
Suddenly Canna’s hand slid downward.
It moved like a seductive snake. Down his solid chest, slowly tracing the ridged muscles of his abdomen.
And finally found what it sought—the large back of his hand resting above his pelvis. Canna claimed it. She covered it softly and gripped tight.
A strange sigh escaped his lips. Confirming his reaction with cool detachment, her fingertips found the gap between his fingers, slipped inside, and interlaced with them. His fingers spread helplessly, accepting her.
His body and his words are completely at odds?
She wanted to mock him, but held back. She simply tightened her grip on their joined hands.
“Orsini.”
At her sweet whisper, she felt the fine hairs on his skin rise.
Canna observed every single reaction. It was enough.
This was the finishing blow. She gently pressed her lips to his cheek.
“Sleep well. Have sweet dreams.”
The moment her lips moved against his skin, sparks ignited in Orsini’s eyes.
“You—”
His voice came out cracked and raw.
But that was all. No more words followed.
That’s enough.
The experiment was over. The moment Canna, having received her answer, tried to pull away—
Orsini’s hand clenched hers like a vise and yanked her forward.