I Picked Up a College Guy, Then My Mafia Ex Caught Me Chapter 16

Late that night, I snuck into his study. I wanted to know what was wrong with him.

Papers were scattered across his desk. I used my phone screen for light.

I searched for a while. In the bottom drawer, I found a medical file. I caught a few words.

## Dissociative Identity Disorder? Auditory Hallucinations?

The light flipped on. I spun around. Dominic stood in the doorway, his face unreadable.

“You scared me.”

He took the file from my hand. “You saw everything?”

“Why are you sick? What’s going on?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m not in control.”

“Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to lock you up somewhere, just you and me. When you left because of it, I couldn’t bear it. So I started seeing someone.”

I stared at him.

“Don’t be scared,” he said. “They can’t fix it, but they can help me manage it. I’ll try. Just… don’t hate me.”

“I don’t. But answer me, do you really not love Victoria? Do you feel the same way about her?”

He stepped closer, cornering me against the bookcase. His eyes were intent, urgent. “Who do you think I love? Isn’t it obvious enough?”

My heart raced.

“Ella, ever since I found out, I’ve been updating my will every month. Everything goes to you.”

“I looked for you for four years, every day. I bought gifts every year, the storage room is full of them. Now tell me. Who do you think I love?”

I couldn’t find words.

He looked down, eyelashes lowering. “I know I did things you hated. I locked you up because you kept looking at Ethan, and I couldn’t stand anyone getting near you.”

“If I try to be normal, will you come closer? I don’t need you to love me. Just… stop hating me.”

His voice cracked.

All his madness, his obsession, they were just desperate expressions of love.

My heart pounded. His devotion was overwhelming, so thick I could hardly breathe.

No wonder the villain had ended up tangled with me. No wonder he had fought everyone to marry me. No wonder he was always where I was.

Every gesture he had ever made for a woman, he had made for me.

Even broken, even twisted, it moved me, because no one had ever cared for me like that.

His eyes dimmed with expectation, then darkened again. “Forget it. Whatever you say, I’m not letting you go.”

He looked like a stray dog guarding his only toy.

Then I reached up and hugged him. “I don’t hate you anymore.”

If I truly felt that way, I would have ended it before it even started.

He went rigid. “Say that again.”

“I think I might like you a little…”

Before I could finish, he kissed me, deep, urgent. “Really? Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

His eyes lit up. He lifted me onto the desk, his body pressing between my thighs. “Ella. Ella,” he breathed, a predator savoring his feast.

That night, he talked a lot, loved me for hours. Somewhere in the haze, he mentioned we had met as kids. I didn’t remember at all.