All Chapters of Sebastian's Obsession: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Author’s POVDinner that night carried an air of unspoken tension. Petal descended the staircase slowly, her steps hesitant, her heart still restless after the events of the day. She was angry—angry at herself, at her weakness, at her inability to resist him. How could I give in? she scolded herself silently. How could I be so stupid, letting him touch me like that, letting him get to me? Her cheeks burned with shame at the memory. She had promised herself never to lose control around him, never to show him how much power he truly had over her. Yet, one bold glance, one commanding touch from Sebastian, and all her resolve had crumbled.Downstairs, the warm glow of the chandelier spilled across the dining table where Penelope, her mother, was arranging the last of the dishes. The scent of freshly baked bread, roasted chicken, and herbs wafted through the air, cozy and inviting. Penelope was always meticulous when it came to family dinners—everything had to be perfect. Max, her father,

author's POV The air in the room was thick—so dense with Sebastian’s rage that even the silence trembled under its weight. The low hum of the evening outside did nothing to lighten the tension that clung to every molecule around them. The storm in his eyes burned hotter than the dusk’s dying sun. “You can’t get away from me. You are mine,” he roared, his voice breaking through the air with thunderous force. “Why are you not understanding this, *you are mine!*” Petal flinched. Her body trembled as his words crashed down upon her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, cutting through the softness of her face like wet trails of defeat. His hand gripped her jaw so tightly that she could feel her pulse fluttering beneath his fingers. Her lips puckered from the pressure, her breath caught somewhere between fear and shock. “Think before screaming at me,” he growled, his breath hot on her skin. For a moment, time seemed to stop. The reality before her was suffocating—Sebastian, the man sh

Author’s POVAfter hurting Petal with those hateful words that cut deeper than any wound could, Sebastian pressed a brief, almost guilty kiss on her forehead. It wasn’t out of affection—it felt more like a punishment wrapped in tenderness, the kind that left her heart more confused than before. Without saying another word, he turned away and left her house. The sound of the door closing echoed through the silent hall like a final judgment. It was already 9:00 p.m. The night outside was quiet, but inside Petal’s heart, a storm raged.Tears slid down her cheeks, silent and uncontrollable. She sat on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling, her mind replaying Sebastian’s voice again and again, as if his words were branded into her soul.“Listen, flower,” he had said, his tone low yet commanding, the warmth in his eyes gone cold. “Don’t test me again. Don’t even think about staying away from me.”Petal blinked at him in disbelief back then, not recognizing the man who had once held her w

The heavy wooden door of the cabin closed softly behind Mark, sealing the room in silence. Sebastian D’Angelo didn’t turn immediately. He remained standing near the tall glass windows, one hand resting in his pocket, the city sprawled beneath him like a living chessboard. Every light, every moving car, every shadow felt deliberate tonight—as if the world itself was waiting for a single move. “Take your seat, Mark.” His voice was calm. Too calm. Mark obeyed without question, straightening his coat as he sat across the massive desk. Years of working under Sebastian had trained him to recognize that tone. This wasn’t a routine discussion. This was the kind of meeting that changed trajectories. “Sir,” Mark began cautiously, “is there anything I can help you with? Did something go wrong with the project?” Sebastian finally turned, his sharp gaze locking onto Mark’s face. “Nothing is wrong with the project.” That should have been reassuring. It wasn’t. “Yes,” Sebastian continued, w

Author’s POV The silence of the penthouse was the kind that pressed against the ears—expensive, immaculate, and lonely. Floor‑to‑ceiling glass walls reflected the city’s early morning glow, the skyline stretching endlessly like a kingdom he ruled from a distance. After the arguments with his parents, he had chosen this place over the family mansion. Not because it was more comfortable, but because distance felt safer. Sebastian had not visited his parents since that night. Voices had been raised, words had cut deeper than knives, and expectations had been thrown at him like chains. Yet, despite everything, he had not severed ties completely. Rebecca still called him—sometimes early in the morning, sometimes late at night. As a son, he refused to punish her for mistakes that were not entirely hers. He answered her calls, listened quietly, responded politely, never raising his voice. He would not become what they had been to him. Life in the penthouse ran on precision. The maid arr