9. Obsession

Xavier POV

I want her.

It is a deceptively simple word for a feeling that has been rotting in my chest like a slow moving fever for years. I don’t just "want" Marissa; I am consumed by her. It is a dangerous, quiet type of madness that hasn't broken since the first day I saw her on that university field.

I can still see it with terrifying clarity. The sun was hitting the grass just right, and a stray ball had rolled toward her. She picked it up and walked toward me, her blonde hair straight and shimmering, those blue eyes boring into my soul with a purity that made me feel like a shadow.

"Thank you," I’d managed to say. My throat felt like it was closing. I couldn't take my eyes off her for even a second. In that heartbeat, the world stopped spinning.

"Xavier, move! Pass the ball!" Steve’s voice had barked from the field, sharp and annoying. It was very clear that he was annoyed at the fact that I was zoning out when our team is on the verge of loosing.

"Oh," I’d muttered, finally snapping out of the zone. But it was too late. The hook was in. From that second on, I was a ghost haunting her life.

I "stumbled" upon her in the library. I showed up "randomly" on the field. I was everywhere she was, a silent observer in the background, waiting for a single sign that she saw me.

But she never noticed me.

The day my world truly shattered was the day I saw her running across the quad, a bright, genuine smile on her face that wasn't meant for me. She was wearing a checkered shirt and a short butterfly skirt that flared as she moved. She looked like a dream, but she was running toward a nightmare.

"Xavier, meet my new girlfriend, Marissa."

Ethan’s voice felt like a serrated blade across my throat. There was a pin drop silence as she extended her hand toward me. The whole world dropped to my feet that day, and I’ve been planning my reclamation ever since. I watched him take her, watched him fail her, and I waited.

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙳𝚊𝚢

"Don't tell me you actually mistook me for a creep?" I asked. My voice was smooth and velvety—the perfect mask for the jagged chaos in my head.

Marissa leaned back, her eyes tracking the line of my jaw visible beneath the silver.

"What was I supposed to think, handsome? You show up out of nowhere. It's a bit... much, don't you think?"

"Actually, all I did was ask around. The bartenders, to be specific," I lied. The silver mask hid the predatory glint in my eyes. "Your friend was totally drunk yesterday and was worried about you, so she may or may not have spilled your address."

"Oh! I see how it is. I am so sorry for the misunderstanding," she apologized, her guard dropping just an inch.

Her soft pink lips parted in a perfect, round shape as she spoke. Fuck. Did I just get turned on by a pair of lips? My pulse spiked, a heavy thrumming in my veins that made it hard to breathe. I watched her, maintaining my gentlemanly facade while the truth burned in the back of my throat.

I didn't need a bartender to tell me where she lived. I knew exactly where she lived. I knew her floor plan. I knew what time she turned off her lights. I had to lie to keep my gentlemanly facade going—to keep her from seeing the monster that had been tracking her every move for years.

I reached out, my fingers itching to touch the gold strands of her hair.

"By the way... the hair," I murmured, my voice dropping. "I am glad you dyed it back to blonde. It’s your natural color, isn't it? It suits you much better."

Marissa froze. Her face squeezed into a mask of sudden, sharp suspicion. Her eyes narrowed as she pulled back slightly.

"Wait... how do you know that?" she asked, her voice tight. I only dyed it back two days ago and there was no way we met during that time frame. How could you possibly know it's my natural color?"

My heart did a slow, heavy thud against my ribs. Careful, Xavier. I’d almost let the stalker out of the cage. I forced a small, easy chuckle and tilted my head, projecting an air of nonchalant observation.

"It is just an observation, Marissa," I said quickly, spinning the lie before she could dig deeper.

"You have that specific complexion that usually belongs to natural blondes. Most people who dye it this shade look washed out, but on you... it looks like it was always meant to be there. I just guessed."

She stared at me for a long beat, searching for a crack in my story. Finally, she let out a breath and relaxed, though the suspicion didn't entirely vanish. "Lucky guess then. I hated that dark brown anyway. It felt like I was hiding."

"You should never hide," I said, the double meaning hanging in the air.

"How about a few drinks, since you’re so sorry and want to apologize?" I suggested, changing the subject before I slipped up again.

"Okay, fine," she said, pointing a finger at me. "But that doesn't give you a free ticket to sleeping with me, okay? I am dead-ass planning on exploring something different tonight. I want to try something... new."

I gave her a wild, fake smile, my teeth bared in a way that looked charming but felt like a bite. Inside, I was fuming. The thought of her "exploring" anyone else made the blood in my veins turn to acid. I wasn't going to let that happen. Not on my watch. But I had to keep up the act.

"You know, it would be nice if you could actually expose your face tonight," she mused, her eyes scanning the silver mask.

"But that’s sad, you know? Then some rival might recognize you and put a bullet into your skull to get rid of the competition. Billionaires make money in the most ethical ways, after all..."

"Not me, though," I said, my voice dropping an octave, becoming the shadow she was so curious about.

Her eyes literally sparkled with hope, a dark curiosity dancing in those blue depths.

"I am not a saint, Marissa," I whispered.

She had no idea she was playing with a man who had already decided her fate years ago. She thought this was a fresh start. She didn't realize she was finally exactly where I wanted her....trapped in my world, with no Ethan to stand in my way.