All Chapters of Daddy's secret Obsession: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

JessyI didn’t sleep that night. Not even for a minute.It wasn’t because anything dramatic happened. It wasn’t because someone yelled or slammed a door or called my name with that voice that always made my stomach twist. None of that. The house stayed quiet, too quiet, the kind of quiet that presses against your ears and makes you feel like you’ve been sealed inside your own head.I kept turning from one side of the bed to the other, sheets wrinkling under me, heart beating too loudly as if it were trying to make decisions for me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same things—Mark’s expression from earlier, the question he didn’t ask but I felt anyway, the concern he kept trying not to show because he didn’t want to scare me off.Sometimes the smallest kindness feels more dangerous than anything else.So I got up before dawn, long before the sun even thought of rising. I moved quietly through the room, careful not to wake the whole house with those small sounds that usually go u

I woke up to a ceiling I didn’t recognize.Not the cracked white paint of my bedroom.Not the soft cream of Mark’s apartment.Something else—smooth, beige, too clean, too unfamiliar.My heartbeat stumbled so hard it hurt.For a moment I didn’t move. I just stared up, trying to understand why my brain felt soaked in fog and why my limbs felt like they were waking up slower than the rest of me. The blanket covering me was thin, hotel-thin, the kind meant for people passing through, not staying.I turned my head to the left.A chair.A desk.A half-open pair of heavy curtains letting in faint morning light.To the right?A bottle of water placed neatly on a bedside table.But no one else in the room.Panic shot through me before memory arrived. The bar. The drinks. The stranger—Kade. His calm voice. His steady presence. The way he walked beside me instead of in front or behind.I sat up too fast, and the room punished me for it—my vision swam, the headache behind my eyes throbbing in tim

JESSYThe hospital smelled like antiseptic and fear. Sharp, sterile, impossible to ignore. My legs trembled when I stepped through the automatic doors, and I clutched my bag like a lifeline, even though it didn’t help.He was there before me, standing just beyond the reception desk, calm, controlled, unyielding. His gaze locked on me the second I staggered in. The air around him seemed to thrum, heavy and impossible, like a storm about to break.“Jessy,” he said, voice low and deliberate. Not an accusation, not a question—just a claim.I froze. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to hide, to disappear into some corner where he couldn’t see. But my body betrayed me. Pain, panic, and an irrational, magnetic pull toward him held me rooted.“I—I can walk,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.“You’re not walking anywhere yet,” he said sharply, moving closer. Even the sound of his boots against the hospital floor sent shivers down my spine. “Sit. Now.”I obeyed, because I had no cho

JESSYThe smell of antiseptic hit me the moment we walked into the hospital. Sharp, metallic, impossible to ignore. My legs trembled, and I clutched my bag like it could hold me together. I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. Not yet.“Jessy,” he said, voice low, steady, and impossibly controlled. But there was a hardness behind it now, a tension that made the air around him almost dangerous.I swallowed. I couldn’t speak. My throat was too tight. My hands shook, and the weight of what had happened—the loss, the blood, the fear—pressed down on me like a stone.He led me to a private room. No one else. The door clicked shut behind us. I sank into the chair beside the bed, curling inward, wishing I could disappear into myself and never come back.The doctor entered with papers and tests, but I barely heard him. My mind was caught in a spiral of panic and guilt. My step-uncle stood near the door, arms crossed, jaw tight. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but every inch of him radiated control.

Jessy I didn’t know how I ended up in his car. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run, yet I stayed. I couldn’t—not with him sitting there, every inch of him radiating danger and something darker, something magnetic I didn’t want to admit I craved. His hands gripped the wheel, taut and controlled, but I could feel his presence everywhere—the way his shoulder brushed mine, the quiet intensity in his gaze. Every glance was sharp enough to cut, yet soft enough to make my chest ache. I tried to focus on the seatbelt, the hum of the tires against the road, anything that wasn’t him. But he didn’t let me ignore him. “Look at me,” he said suddenly. His voice was low, commanding, and I flinched under its pull. I obeyed. His eyes darkened as they scanned me, lingering in a way that left my stomach fluttering and my pulse erratic. Possession. Desire. Anger. Something I couldn’t name. Something that should have been wrong but wasn’t. “You’re trembling,” he said quietly, leaning just