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The Trap
Veröffentlichungsdatum:
13.09.2026 17:43:40
Aktuellstes Kapitel
Sacred Obsession: For the priest who ruined me The photograph
Chapter 43:Elias pov Lucian didn't ask for an answer.Three days after his offer in the garden, he simply materialized again. He was leaning near the low stone wall outside the computer science building just as the evening lectures let out. The autumn air had grown sharper, carrying a thin, biting wind that swept between the glass façades and brought with it the faint, metallic scent of the nearby river. Students streamed past us in both directions, their voices rising and falling in the familiar, exhausted hum of the day's end.Lucian stood entirely separate from the rush, as if the space directly around him belonged to him by default. Wrapped in a dark wool coat against the chill, his hair perfectly neat and his expression unreadable, he just waited.I stopped. Mostly because pushing past him would have required an energy I simply didn't possess.He didn't bring up the business. He didn't reiterate the offer. Instead, he reached into his coat and held out a single printed photogra
Sacred Obsession: For the priest who ruined me Stone
Chapter 42: Elias POV The food turned to stone in my mouth.One moment the seared fish and rice had been warm and necessary; the next they sat heavy and flavourless, impossible to swallow. Lucian’s words hung in the cool garden air between us, simple and precise. *Join my father’s business. In return, I will help you find Cassian.* The fountain continued its soft, indifferent fall of water. A light wind moved through the half-bare branches overhead and brought the distant noise of campus with it—voices, a door closing, the low hum of evening traffic beyond the hedges. None of it touched the sudden tightness in my throat.I was desperate. That fact was no longer deniable. The voicemails, the late nights in the laboratory, the slow accumulation of skills I did not yet know how to use—all of it existed for one purpose. But desperation had limits. Getting into whatever world Lucian’s father occupied was not part of any plan I had made. Trouble of that scale had never been the intention.
Sacred Obsession: For the priest who ruined me Offer
Chapter 41: Elias pov Anger sat under my skin like a low-grade fever.I had slept badly. The dream clung to the edges of every thought—Cassian’s body, the familiar weight of his arms, the moment the face shifted into Lucian’s sharper features. It was disturbing in a way I could not quite name. What was the man who knew Cassian’s full name doing inside my sleep? I tried to push the image down while the kettle boiled and the smell of coffee filled the small kitchen. Steam rose against the cool morning air coming through the half-open window. The anger surfaced again while I buttoned my shirt, the fabric catching briefly on still-damp skin. It waited for me in the mirror, in the dark circles under my eyes, in the tight set of my mouth. By the time I left the apartment the feeling had settled into something flatter and more useful: a decision to treat the entire day as noise to be endured.I moved through lectures and laboratory hours like a zombie. Voices reached me at a distance, muff
Sacred Obsession: For the priest who ruined me The Game
chapter 40: Elias pov The stadium lights were already on when I arrived with Theo, throwing hard white glare across the field and bleaching the evening sky to a pale violet. The air smelled of cut grass, damp earth, and the faint metallic tang of the nearby river. Crowds moved in loose currents toward the stands—voices overlapping, the occasional burst of laughter, the low thump of bass from someone’s portable speaker. Theo walked half a step ahead, bag over one shoulder, the usual easy energy back in his stride. I followed.For the first time in weeks the constant pressure behind my ribs eased. Cassian was still missing. That fact remained fixed and sharp. But beneath it, for a few hours, there were no other immediate worries. No laboratory deadlines pressing against the inside of my skull. No corridor conversations to navigate. No gifts left on desks. Just the open space of the field and the rising noise of people who had come simply to watch a game.I sat in the stands and let th
Sacred Obsession: For the priest who ruined me the sacrifice of love
Chapter 39: Cassian's povAshara was quiet in a way that felt absolute.Mist clung to the mountains most mornings and refused to burn away until the sun was high. The air always carried the scent of wet stone, pine, and cold earth. Sound travelled strangely here—footsteps on the gravel paths outside my small residence arrived muffled, voices from the chapel reached me thinned by distance and altitude. Even the wind seemed to move with care, as if it had learned not to disturb the people sent to this place to vanish.I knelt on the thin cushion in front of the simple wooden shrine in the corner of my room. The rosary beads were warm from the heat of my hands. I had already completed four full decades. This was the fifth. The repetition had become the central structure of my days—priestly duties in the small mountain chapel, the quiet work of listening to the few souls who still came for confession, and then this: hour after hour of prayer that was equal parts discipline and penance.A
Sacred Obsession: For the priest who ruined me Careful
Chapter 38: Elias pov The corridor back toward the computer science building felt longer than usual.My footsteps sounded too loud against the polished floor. Students passed in loose groups, voices overlapping, the faint scent of coffee and printer toner drifting from open doors. None of it registered clearly. My mind kept replaying the garden—the cool air under the tree, the steady sound of the fountain, and the way Lucian had spoken Cassian’s full name as if it belonged in ordinary conversation.Father Cassian Riven.No one at Caldrith Crown should have known that name. I had been careful. I had left Saint-Mireille without leaving obvious trails. The voicemails went into a void. The searches I ran stayed private. Yet this man—broad-shouldered, calm, carrying himself with the same controlled grace that still haunted me—had said the name without hesitation. The question of *how* sat like a stone in my chest. Black-market information. Old syndicate connections. Something worse. I co
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