Bound by Obsession
One contract. Two broken hearts. Zero chance of walking away.
My life shattered in a single night. Betrayed by my fiancé, drowning in my family's debt, with nowhere left to turn.
Then he appeared.
Damien Cross. Billionaire. Bastard. The most dangerous man I've ever met.
His offer was simple, marry me for one year. Save your family. Ask no questions.
I should have said no. Should have seen the trap. But desperation makes you reckless, and I signed my name next to his at 3am in a Vegas chapel, our hands shaking with rage and champagne.
The rules were clear: Separate bedrooms, No feelings, When the contract ends, we walk away
But...
We broke every single one.
Now I'm trapped in his world of glass towers and cruel games, where every touch is a weapon and every kiss is a war. He looks at me like I'm his to own, like he'd burn down the world to keep me.
I hate him. I crave him. I'm addicted to the chaos we create.
But contracts expire. Lies unravel. And when I discover the devastating truth about why he really married me, I'll have to choose, walk away with my heart intact—or stay and let his obsession consume us both.
He warned me not to fall in love with him.
So, he should have warned himself.
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Chapter: The First MorningI didn't sleep.How could I, when my whole life had been torn apart and reassembled in forty-eight hours? I sprawled across that immense bed, in that disinfected-beautiful room, and stared up at the ceiling until most of the black were gray were pinks as ribbons to gold over Manhattan.Mrs. Cross.It was a name that wore like a costume. As if I were playing dress-up in someone else’s life.My phone, thankfully, had finally died around 3 a.m. Before then, it was just a constant stream of notifications. All of it only congratulations from people who barely knew me, old friends I hadn’t talked to in years suddenly reaching out to ask how I’d been doing for so long and 17 more missed calls from my mom.The last message I’d read was one from Sophie: I’m here when you want to talk. No judgment. Just bring wine. Like, a lot of wine.I gave up trying to sleep and stumbled into the bathroom at 6:47am. The tub was obscene, you could easily fit three people in there, and it had jets and a view o
Last Updated: 2026-02-26
Chapter: It Was All FakeThe plane hit turbulence. Or maybe that was because every inch of me had responded to what his words had implied."I'd rather die," I said."Noted." But his eyes told me he didn’t believe it. "Moving on. Pages twenty-one through thirty cover business matters. You are not entitled to my business and I have no interest in yours if you start one. Clean financial separation.""That divorce occupies pages thirty-one through forty, '' Lucas says gently. “How it will be dealt with, public relations management, division of assets accumulated during marriage, which is essentially none since everything is separate.”"And pages forty-one through forty-seven?" I asked.Damien's expression turned to stone. "Non-disclosure agreement. What goes on in this marriage, stays in this marriage. You don't write a tell-all. You don’t sell stories to the tabloids. You never breathe a word to anyone about what our current relationship is, and I mean never, for the rest of your life, or you lose everything and
Last Updated: 2026-02-26
Chapter: The Morning AfterI awoke in regret with some fancy sheets.For one glorious moment, I didn’t think about it. And then it all came back, Marcus, my father, the bar, the plane, the chapel with its Elvis kitschy and the judge who had stared at us like we were idiots.My marriage certificate on the bedside with my new name: Isla Cross.I was going to be sick.The hotel suite was obscenely luxurious, floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the strip, furniture that I guessed per item cost more than any of my tuition bills, and a wall-length bed (no joke, was probably as big as my previous apartment). I was in it by myself, the previous day’s rumpled dress still on me, my makeup all over the silk pillowcase.Classy, Isla. Real classy.I had 17 missed calls on my phone. I took no heed of them and staggered to the bathroom, where I had the face of someone who had made catastrophically poor choices, twirled black mascara eyes, hair like a bird’s nest and an expression that shouted. What on earth have I done?The
Last Updated: 2026-02-26
Chapter: Welcome To HellHe pressed in closer and I smelled him, cedar wood and something deeper, a fragrance that was more expensive. "I need a wife. You need money. We can help each other."I laughed. Actually laughed. "That's your line? That's what you're going with?""It's not a line. It's a business proposition." He retrieved a card, and pushed it across the bar. Damien Cross, CEO, Cross Industries. "You're Isla Monroe. Your father is the owner of Monroe Textiles... was, I mean to say. It's hemorrhaging money. Filing for bankruptcy."Ice flooded my veins. "How do you—""I know everything about everyone I do business with. And I want to do business with you.""I don't understand.""Marry me," he said simply. "One year. A contract. I pay off your father’s debts, I cover his medical bills, I save the company. In exchange, you are the dutiful wife. No feelings. No complications. The year winds up, and we’re divorced. You walk out with enough money to begin anew and both of us get what we want."Sophie made a
Last Updated: 2026-02-26
Chapter: The Night Everything BurnedThe champagne flute smashed against the marble floor, crystal shattering just like my perfectly groomed existence."Isla, baby, just listen...""Don't." My voice was strangled, barely human. “You will not.”Marcus was in the vestibule in the coatroom, staring at me, his bow tie undone, lipstick on his collar like a fucking cliché. Behind him, shivering in her tiny dress, was Vanessa. My cousin. My cousin.Beyond the door, the engagement celebration roared its way into oblivion, two hundred guests toasting a wedding that would never be, all unaware of this explosion in here, right there in this cramped little cage.“It didn’t mean anything,” Marcus said, and there was a defiance in that sentence that almost made me laugh. Nearly. “We were drunk, it was an accident.”"How long?"Silence."HOW LONG?" A scream of mine bounced off the confines of the walls.Vanessa flinched. "Six months," she whispered.Six months. Half a year of lies. Half a year of me planning a wedding, picking out flow
Last Updated: 2026-02-26
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