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Chapter 9: Joanna
publish date:
2026-07-03 21:55:31
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His Darkest Obsession (Haunted Kings #1) Chapter 9: Joanna
Before I can even attempt to form a coherent sentence to explain that no, I don’t know his actual name, but he rescued me from a psychological collapse a month ago, the man in front of me moves.He takes one slow, deliberate step forward. It’s a minimal shift, but it completely alters the geometry of the space. His broad, towering frame cuts off the rest of the crowded bar, effectively trapping me in a private sanctuary of cedarwood, crisp linen, and expensive cologne.Then, his hand lands on the bare skin of my lower back.My breath hitches, a sudden spike of heat melting right down my spine. His touch isn’t like Carter’s. It isn’t frantic or busy or seeking permission to misbehave. His palm is heavy, warm, and utterly proprietary. It rests exactly where Douchebag Carter’s slimy fingers had been just a minute ago, completely erasing the phantom disgust left behind by the real estate heir. It’s an undeniable power play, and my heart performs a frantic, desperate gymnastics routine beh
His Darkest Obsession (Haunted Kings #1) Chapter 8: Joanna
I take another sip of my champagne and immediately remember why I don’t drink champagne. It tastes like sparkling disappointment. The bartender had assured me it was one of the finest in France. Personally, I think it tastes like someone carbonated sour grapes and slapped a four-digit price tag on it. Then again, maybe my taste buds just aren’t rich enough. Around me, Icarus gleams. Everything about the club screams obscene wealth. The ceiling disappears into darkness broken by cascading crystal lights. Marble floors reflect designer heels and polished Italian leather shoes. Every other person I glance at looks like they either owns a private jet, models for Vogue, or has inherited enough money to casually buy a small country. Probably all three. Women glide past in dresses that undoubtedly cost more than my entire wardrobe combined. One of them is wearing what looks suspiciously like actual diamonds sewn into her dress. I stare for an extra second. Yep. Definitely
His Darkest Obsession (Haunted Kings #1) Chapter 7: Rowan
Wealth attracts exactly three kinds of people. Those born into it, those who built it, and those desperately trying to be photographed beside it. Icarus has managed to gather all three under one roof tonight. From our glass-walled mezzanine in the VIP section, the entire spectacle looks less like a high-profile launch party and more like a beautifully curated zoo. Downstairs, a world-famous DJ is currently committing crimes against music, blasting bass so loud it vibrates through the leather of our booth. Influencers pose in front of the marble staircase as though they’d personally commissioned the architecture, nepo babies loudly discuss "investments" funded entirely by their parents' trust accounts, and models drift between tables wearing dresses worth more than the average Manhattan mortgage. Luca calls it networking. I call it population density. "If you stare any harder at that railing, Thorne, you're going to burn a hole through the steel," a voice drawls in a cr
His Darkest Obsession (Haunted Kings #1) Chapter Six: Joanna
**ONE MONTH LATER**There are exactly three things I’ve learned over the last month.One: heartbreak is apparently not a straight line.Two: blocking your ex means absolutely nothing if you’re the idiot who keeps unblocking him at two in the morning just to see if he looks miserable.Three: Kenneth looks annoyingly well-rested in selfies.I block him again.Hopefully for the last time.“…And blocked,” I mutter triumphantly, tossing my phone onto the nearest chair before temptation can strike again.Ria, who’s currently stealing fries off my plate from across the kitchen island, raises an unimpressed eyebrow.“That’s what you said last Thursday, and the Tuesday before that, and the Sunday before that.”I glare at her and she blinks at me innocently. “Well, I mean it this time.”She pops another fry into her mouth. “I’ll believe it when your thumb develops self-control.”“…Rude.”She grins. The annoying thing is…She’s right.Recovery hasn’t been some dramatic movie montage where I cry
His Darkest Obsession (Haunted Kings #1) Chapter Five: Joanna
"Ria, wait—" My voice comes out as a pathetic, dry rasp, completely lacking the strength to cut through the sudden spike of adrenaline in the air.Ria doesn't hear me. She steps directly into the stranger’s space, her small frame vibrating with a terrifying, protective fury. Her midnight-black hair practically crackles as she glares up at him, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.Her shoulders squared like she’s ready to commit a felony on my behalf. God, I love her. “What the fuck are you doing?” she demands.Only then does he take a step back.The movement creates space between us I’d barely realized he’d invaded. I suck in a steadier breath.He doesn’t look offended.Or intimidated.He simply turns to face Ria, one slow movement at a time, until I fully appreciate just how unfairly tall he is.Good Lord.He has at least half a foot on her.He raises both hands, palms open. A universal gesture of surrender. "I'm not touching her," he says. His voice has lost that heav
His Darkest Obsession (Haunted Kings #1) Chapter 4: Rowan
The numbers on the tablet are clean, logical, and entirely devoid of emotion. That is why I like them. Algorithmic forecasting models don’t have a fragile ego. They certainly don’t call you at midnight to remind you that your older brother has just successfully resected a glioblastoma while you are merely "playing with spreadsheets." I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose, ignoring the faint vibration of my phone in my breast pocket. It is my father. Again. Probably calling to recount the exact details of Julian’s celebratory dinner. The dinner I skipped because a room full of arrogant neurosurgeons is a special kind of hell I lack the patience for tonight. Instead, I sit on my barstool in the dim, leather-scented quiet of the financial district’s most discreet lounge, nursing a neat bourbon. It is supposed to be an escape. Until the air shifts right next to my stool. Two women step up to the very corner of the mahogany bar counter, right in my peripheral vision. One, a
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