The Fire Of Possession

Lucas’s POV

The city lights blur past the tinted windows of my Bentley, a cold reflection of the rage burning in my chest. My fingers grip the steering wheel, knuckles white, as I weave through Manhattan’s late-night traffic, my mind a storm of betrayal and obsession. Sophia. My wife. My possession. The thought of her with him Julian Gray, that smug bastard who’s stolen my company and now dares to touch what’s mine twists my gut like a knife. I saw the photo, sent by my guy in the field: Sophia’s silhouette in Gray’s car, her body pressed too close to his. She’s slipping away, and I’ll be damned if I let her go without a fight.

The dashboard clock reads 2:17 AM, but sleep is a luxury I can’t afford. Not when Julian’s taunting words from weeks ago echo in my head: “I might as well snatch her from you.” He thinks he’s untouchable, sitting in my office, running my company, and now seducing my wife. I slam my fist against the steering wheel, the horn blaring into the night, startling a pedestrian on the sidewalk. I don’t care. Everything I’ve built my reputation, my power, my control is crumbling, and it’s all because of her. Sophia, with her quiet defiance, her hazel eyes that used to look at me with love but now hold nothing but fear. And now, I know why. She’s carrying his child.

Emily’s call earlier tonight confirmed it, her voice dripping with venom as she spilled Sophia’s secret. “She’s pregnant, Lucas,” she’d said, her laugh sharp and cruel. “And it’s not yours. It’s Julian’s.” The words hit like a sucker punch, but they also lit a fire. Sophia thinks she can humiliate me, run to him, and start a new life? She’s mine. Always has been, always will be. I married her to secure the Lark family’s wealth, to cement my place at the top, but somewhere along the way, she became more than a transaction. She’s my trophy, my proof of victory, and I won’t let Julian Gray take her from me.

I pull into a dimly lit alley near the docks, where my contact waits. The sedan’s parked under a flickering streetlight, its black paint blending into the shadows. I step out, my polished shoes crunching on the gravel, my tailored suit a stark contrast to the grime around me. The man leaning against the car straightens as I approach, his scar glinting in the faint light. He’s the one I hired to tail Sophia, to dig up dirt on Julian. His name’s irrelevant he’s a tool, nothing more.

“Got anything new?” I ask, my voice low, clipped. I light a cigarette, the smoke curling into the damp air, calming the tremor in my hands.

He nods, pulling out his phone. “Got eyes on them tonight. They’re holed up in a safehouse upstate, some cabin in the woods. Gray’s got security, but I know the layout. And I sent her the photo, like you asked. She’s rattled.”

A smirk tugs at my lips. Good. I want her scared, cornered, remembering who she belongs to. “Anything else?” I ask, exhaling a plume of smoke.

He hesitates, his eyes darting away. “Yeah. There’s chatter. Gray’s digging into your financials. He’s got someone sniffing around your offshore accounts, the ones tied to the Lark deal.”

My blood runs cold. Those accounts,the ones I’ve been siphoning money from for years are my lifeline. If Julian exposes them, I’m finished. Not just my reputation, but my freedom. Embezzlement, fraud, maybe worse. I take a drag, forcing my expression to stay neutral. “He won’t find anything,” I say, more to convince myself than him. “Those accounts are buried deep.”

The man shrugs, his scar twitching. “He’s got resources, Anderson. And he’s not alone. Someone’s feeding him info,someone close.”

I narrow my eyes, my mind racing. Emily? No, she’s too invested in bringing Sophia down. Asher? He’s Julian’s best friend, but he’s married to Emily, and I’ve seen the cracks in their marriage. Could he be playing both sides? Or is it someone else, someone I’ve overlooked? I flick the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under my heel. “Find out who,” I snap. “And keep tabs on that cabin. I want to know every move they make.”

He nods, slipping back into the sedan, and I watch him drive off, the taillights disappearing into the night. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, expecting an update. Instead, it’s a text from Emily: “They’re spooked. I’m at the cabin. Meet me here. We end this tonight.”

My pulse spikes. Emily’s at the cabin? Alone? She’s reckless, but this is bold, even for her. I slide back into my Bentley, my mind a tangle of strategy and rage. If Emily’s there, she’s either a liability or an opportunity. She wants Julian for herself, just as badly as I want Sophia back. We’re unlikely allies, bound by our mutual hatred, but I don’t trust her. She’s a snake, always has been, and I’m not fool enough to think she won’t turn on me.

The drive upstate is a blur, my thoughts consumed by Sophia. I see her in my mind—her curly brown hair, her soft curves, the way she used to smile before I broke her spirit. I didn’t mean to. Not at first. But the Lark family’s betrayal choosing Emily for a richer match, leaving me with the “lesser” sister stung my pride. I made Sophia pay for it, every day, with my coldness, my control. And now she’s pregnant with his child, a final slap in my face. I’ll make her see reason. I’ll make her come back to me. And if I can’t… I’ll make sure no one else has her.

The cabin comes into view, a sleek structure hidden among the pines, its windows dark except for a faint glow. I park a distance away, cutting the engine and stepping into the shadows. The air is cold, the scent of pine sharp, but my blood runs hot. I move silently, my years of navigating boardrooms translating to this stalking my prey. Emily’s car is parked nearby, a silver Mercedes that screams her arrogance. I scan the perimeter, spotting Julian’s SUV. They’re here, just as my contact said.

I creep closer, my hand on the gun tucked in my waistband a precaution I’ve never had to use, until now. The cabin’s back door is slightly ajar, and my heart pounds. Emily’s work, no doubt. I slip inside, the darkness swallowing me, and pause, listening. The house is quiet, too quiet, except for a faint murmur from the living room. Sophia’s voice, soft and trembling, reaches me, and my chest tightens with a mix of longing and fury.

I edge closer, peering around a corner. Sophia’s on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, her face pale. Julian’s beside her, his hand on hers, his expression fierce. Asher’s pacing, phone in hand, oblivious to my presence. I could end this now pull the gun, make my claim but Emily’s plan is smarter. She wants to frame Julian, make it look like he’s the danger, drive Sophia back to me out of fear. It’s twisted, but it could work.

I pull out my phone, texting Emily: “I’m here. Where are you?” No response. My unease grows, a prickling at the back of my neck. Something’s off. I move toward the back door again, intending to regroup, when a shadow shifts in the darkness outside. My hand tightens on the gun, my breath shallow. It’s not Emily she’d have signaled me. This is someone else.

A figure steps into the doorway, their silhouette tall and menacing, a silenced pistol gleaming in their hand. Before I can react, a cold voice whispers, “You’re not the only one hunting, Anderson.” The gun rises, aimed at my chest, and a single shot rings out, the sound muffled but deafening in the silent night. Who fired, and am I the target or just collateral in a larger game?