Lahat ng Kabanata ng Hidden Obsession : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Adrian woke with a dry mouth and a pounding head. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was—the room was dim, the curtains drawn tight against the morning sun. Then the weight at his waist reminded him.Evan’s arm.Heavy, warm, anchored across him like a chain.Adrian shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, but even the smallest movement made Evan’s hold tighten. He was awake instantly, as if he hadn’t been sleeping at all.“Morning,” Evan murmured, voice low, already pressing a kiss into the hollow of Adrian’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”Adrian swallowed. “Tired.”“You drank too much.” It wasn’t a judgment, not exactly, but it was firm, an observation laid out like fact. Evan pulled him closer, burying his nose in Adrian’s hair. “You don’t need alcohol. You don’t need anything that makes you sick. You have me.”The words sent a shiver down Adrian’s spine. Comforting and terrifying all at once.“I just wanted to relax,” Adrian whispered.“You can relax here,” Evan said simply,

The threats didn’t stop.They came in waves—sliding under the door in cheap envelopes, typed messages tucked between advertisements, texts from strange numbers that vanished before Adrian could even screenshot them. Each one was more invasive than the last.I’m watching you.He doesn’t love you, he owns you.Every cage has a lock—and I have the key.And then the pictures started.Blurry at first, as though taken with a shaky hand from across the street. Adrian walking out of his office. Adrian laughing in a café with coworkers. Adrian waiting for Evan outside the gallery, arms wrapped tight around himself against the cold.The one that made his blood run cold wasn’t grainy at all. It was crystal-clear—him and Evan, seated at the restaurant weeks ago, Evan’s hand curled possessively over his thigh under the table. They hadn’t noticed the flash. They hadn’t thought anyone was close enough to see.On the back was scrawled: I’m coming for you.---Evan’s reaction was immediate.The first

Alec Rotti had always believed the strongest men were the ones who could wait. Patience, in his mind, wasn’t a virtue. It was a weapon. And he wielded it as well as he wielded anything else. That was why he was sitting in his car now, the windows tinted dark enough to make him invisible, parked just far enough from the café to avoid suspicion, but close enough to see. He didn’t need to get out. He didn’t need to step inside. Watching was enough. Adrian was there again. He always was, at some point during the week, either on his own or with colleagues. Sometimes with Evan. Those were the worst days, though Alec had grown addicted to them—watching the man he hated most stand so close to something so delicate, so undeserving of his shadow. Alec’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening as he took in the scene before him. Adrian was laughing at something, his smile faint but genuine, eyes soft as he leaned into the conversation with a friend across the table. It

The first rule of any hunt was silence. Silence in motion. Silence in thought. Silence in every inch of the mask you wore until the prey was too ensnared to realize you had been watching all along. Evan had built an empire out of silence—out of calculation, anticipation, patience. He could charm boardrooms with his smile, disarm adversaries with a handshake, and carve his rivals to pieces without ever raising his voice. No one suspected the blood that ran under his fingernails. No one, except Adrian. But Adrian didn’t know the half of it. He didn’t know that while he was curled on the couch with a book, or pacing the kitchen with coffee in hand, or sleeping with his lips slightly parted in the way that drove Evan half-mad with tenderness, there was another war raging in the shadows. Alec Rotti. The name had come together piece by piece, like a puzzle Evan refused to leave unfinished. The blurred outlines in photographs, the grainy security footage, the strange flicker of familia

Adrian’s morning began like any other. He padded barefoot into the kitchen, the faint hum of the refrigerator filling the quiet. Sunlight streamed through the blinds in golden slits, striping the wooden floor. The smell of coffee still lingered in the air from the pot Evan had made before leaving for work. Evan had kissed him before stepping out, a soft press of lips against his hairline that had sent Adrian’s heart twisting in ways he didn’t dare name anymore. The apartment felt safe. Too safe. He’d told himself he was used to it now—Evan’s constant hovering, the way the man curated his life down to the smallest detail, from when he ate to which shirts he wore to work. Somewhere between resistance and exhaustion, Adrian had surrendered. Not outwardly, not in words, but in the way he no longer fought every decision, in the way he sometimes caught himself waiting for Evan’s approval without realizing it. Still, the quiet today unnerved him. Evan’s absence was a hollow weight. Ad