All Chapters of TWISTED OBESSION: MY FIANCE CHEATED SO I SLEPT WITH HIS BOSS: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

ELARA"You gave me your life! Everything in my world revolves around you...my job, my home, my friends, and my family. Everything!" I'm shouting now. "I don't have anything that's mine anymore. It's all yours. All extensions of your empire.""Then take it back." He gestures around the penthouse. "Leave. Go find your identity. Be independent. See how long you last without my protection. Without my protection. Without me.""Is that a threat?""It's a fact." He walks to the bar and pours himself a drink. "You think the world is going to be kind to you? That your career will survive once people know we're not together? That Lucas's friends, Warren's allies, and all the people I've crushed won't come after you the moment they think you're vulnerable?""I can protect myself...""Can you?" He turns to face me, and the look in his eyes is devastating. "Without my lawyers? Without Noah's security? Without my name and my power behind you? You think you're strong on your own, but you've been ope

ELARAWalking into Cross Enterprises on Monday morning feels like walking into a battlefield.Everyone stares. Everyone whispers.Jennifer pulls me into her office immediately."Are you okay?""I'm fine.""Elara." Her voice is gentle. "You look like you haven't slept in days. And rumor is you and Damien—""Are taking some space," I finish. "It's temporary. We just need to figure some things out.""Okay." She doesn't look convinced. "Well, you're here; that's what matters. The presentation for the Hudson project is on Wednesday. Are you ready?""Yes. I've been working on it all weekend."That's a lie. I've been crying and questioning every decision I've ever made.But the presentation is done. I can do this."Good. Because the client specifically requested you. They were impressed by your previous work."A flicker of pride cuts through the numbness. MY work. Not Damien's influence. Mine.Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can be Elara Blake, an independent professional, without being Samien

ELARA It's not a request. It's the voice he uses when he expects immediate obedience. The dominant voice that makes me wet, knees weak and my body respond before my brain can catch up. I turned to face him for the first time since he walked in. "I really do have another meeting." "Cancel it." "No." His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking in his cheek. It's the only sign of emotion on his otherwise perfectly controlled face. "We need to talk." "You made it clear that there was nothing to talk about. You gave me ten minutes to choose, remember?" I shoulder my bag, the weight of my laptop grounding me. "I chose. We're done. So unless this is about work, Mr. Cross, I don't see what we have to discuss." I walk toward the door. "I watched you on the security feed," he says quietly. I stop, hand on the door handle. The admission hangs in the air like smoke. "For three days, I've watched you walk through this building." His voice is rough now, the professional veneer cracking. "Watched

DAMIEN Two days. Forty-eight hours since we decided to give each other space. The penthouse is a tomb without her scent on the sheets, without her laugh echoing off marble. I gave her an ultimatum like an idiot, and she walked. But I’m Damien Cross. I don’t lose. Ever. I’m in my office before the sun is fully up, pretending to read quarterly reports while the security feed loops on the second monitor. Old habits. Noah swore he cut the personal surveillance, but the building’s internal cameras are still mine. And there she is. On floor 32 at the break room. Elara in a charcoal pencil skirt and cream silk blouse, sleeves rolled to her elbows. She’s laughing (really laughing) at something James says. That smug, harmless little marketing drone leans in, brushing an imaginary speck from her sleeve. His fingers linger half a second too long. She doesn’t pull away. Her smile is bright, open, and unguarded. The same smile she used to give me when the world was just us. My vision t

ELARAThe restroom door locks with that familiar, ominous click. My heart slams against my ribs as Damien steps into view, his eyes already black with possession. No words. He doesn’t need them.His hands are on me in seconds in a rough, demanding manner, spinning me and slamming my back against the cold marble counter. The edge bites into my hips, a sharp sting that makes me gasp. He rips my blouse open with one brutal yank; buttons scatter across the tile like gunfire. My lace bra is exposed, nipples already hard and straining against the sheer fabric.His fingers hook into the cups and pull down hard, my breasts spilling free into his waiting palms. His mouth descends hot and wet, closing over one of my nipples, sucking fiercely, his teeth scraping the sensitive peak, sending lightning straight to my clit until I cry out. He bites just enough to mark, then soothes with his tongue before moving to the other breast, repeating the torment until I’m writhing and clenching my thighs wi