Hunting Her Heir: His Pretty Obsession

CHAPTER ONE

ELENA’S POV

“Alright everybody, that will be the final shot for today. Let's wrap it up, you know tomorrow's another day.” I said as I adjusted my camera and walked back to my duffel bag lying on the ground.

My shoulders ached terribly as I packed up the last of my lighting equipment. 

Another overtime shoot wrapped at 9 PM, this was my seventh day in a row. The studio lights turned dim as my assistant turned it off, it left behind a familiar ringing in my ears while the faint smell of metal lingered in the air.

I loved this job. The camera in my hands always felt like an extension of me. It had been that way since I was twelve, when my foster mother handed me a disposable camera on a school trip and something just clicked. It wasn't just the shutter, but something in me. 

Photography was the first thing that ever felt like mine. Fully, completely mine. Nobody gave it to me and nobody could take it away. 

In every apartment, every temporary home, every uncomfortable situation I'd found myself in over the years, the camera was the one constant that made sense.  But lately, even the click of the shutter couldn’t drown out the unease constantly growing under my skin.

“Elena Voss, I*******m’s latest obsession,” Jade’s voice sang behind me.

She leaned against the doorframe, with her arms folded and a cheeky smirk plastered on her face. “Those behind-the-scenes shots you posted? Girl, they’re blowing up. Over two hundred thousand likes already.”

I managed a tired smile, zipping my bag. “That’s good.”

“That’s great,” she corrected, walking over to bump my hip. “You’ve been working like a machine all month. Why don't you celebrate a little.”

I nodded but I didn't really feel any of it. For the past month, something had been off. The little hairs on the back of my neck constantly stood at attention. 

Strange private messages kept sliding into my DMs from an account with no profile picture—just a black void and the username “ShadowWatch92.”

“You look beautiful when you think no one’s looking.”

“That grey coat suits you better. Wear it more often.”

“Double check your door locks tonight.”

“You look dazzling in that red lip glaze.”

“Make sure you check twice before crossing the street today.”

They were never outright threats, but they knew things. What I wore. Where I went. How I tilted my head when I was lost in thought. Things I hadn’t told anyone, things I didn't post.

So how did they know?

“Jade…” I started, slinging my duffel bag over my shoulder. “I’ve been getting really weird messages. Like, really specific ones. For almost a month now.”

Her playful expression faded. “What kind of weird?”

“Obsessive fan weird. They know details they shouldn’t.” I swallowed. “I feel like someone’s following me all the time.”

She studied my face, then sighed. “Babe, you need to tell your boyfriend. Let Mike pick you up tonight. No more late-night solo walks.”

I laughed bitterly. “Mike? He barely picks up my calls these days.”

Still, I tried. As I stepped out of the studio into the cool London night, I dialed his number. It rang, and rang, and then…went straight to voicemail.

“How typical,” I muttered, shoving my phone into my pocket.

“He didn't respond?” Jade asked. I sighed and nodded in response.

“We need to kick him in the balls sometime. No offense babe.” She said, kicking a small gravel out of her way.

I smiled a little. “None taken.” Looking up I sucked in a deep breath. “I'll take an Uber or just walk home, it's no big deal.”

Jade raised an eyebrow and I could tell she wanted to protest. “Make sure you call me when you get home, and if anything comes up on your way there, still call me.” She finally said.

“Yes mummy.” I teased.

She laughed and we kissed each other goodbye, while I started my journey to my apartment.

The walk to my apartment wasn’t long, but tonight everything felt alive. I heard someone's footsteps echoing behind me or maybe it was just my imagination. 

I kept glancing over my shoulder, gripping my camera bag tighter. By the time I pushed open our front door, my nerves were absolutely frayed.

But the scene inside stopped me dead in my tracks.

Mike wasn’t alone. Four men with hardened faces and visible handguns tucked into their waistbands stood in our living room. 

One was counting cash on the coffee table with a shotgun sitting openly on his thigh, like a remote control.

While the other leaned against the wall comfortably as if he owned the place. Mike looked up from his phone with a lit cigar hanging loosely in his mouth, barely surprised to see me.

“What the hell is this?” I demanded immediately.

He sighed, waving a dismissive hand. “Relax, Elena. It's business. We’re clashing with the Reynolds crew soon. They’re just here to sort logistics.”

“Logistics?” I stared at the guns and my heart picked a race instantly. “You brought armed men into our home?”

One of the men smirked while Mike shrugged it off. “You wanted a provider, right? This is how it works sometimes. Get used to it, love.”

This was the height of it. All the late nights, the ignored calls, the empty promises, the constant interruptions from his Mafia members. The way he never asked about my shoots or noticed how anxious I was becoming.

“I’m done,” I said, my hands were shaking but my voice wasn't. “We’re over, Mike.”

He laughed at me like I had told a silly joke. “Sure, Elena. Whatever.”

I didn’t argue. I stormed into the bedroom, yanked out my biggest suitcase, and threw all my clothes into it. 

I grabbed my camera equipment, laptop and the few things that were truly mine. Twenty minutes later, I dragged the suitcase past the armed strangers and out the door without looking back.

I took an Uber to Jade's place and rang the doorbell. Jade opened her apartment door with wide eyes when she saw me. “Elena? What happened?”

“I left him,” I said, stepping inside. “For good this time.”

She pulled me into a hug. “About damn time. Stay as long as you need.”

We stayed up for a bit. She ordered wine and Chinese takeout, and every point of the way she kept trying to make me laugh, which I did eventually.

When she finally went to bed, I sat on her couch and opened I*******m. My finger hovered over the stories. I posted a simple black square with the caption:

“New chapter. Sometimes peace is worth more than comfort.”

It was subtle enough, no names revealed and no drama.

I hit post, exhaled, and refreshed my DMs out of habit.

And also immediately a new message popped up from ShadowWatch92.

“Happy breakup, Elena. You deserve better.”

My blood ran cold.