All Chapters of MY WILD OBSESSION : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO We’ll be returning to New York in two days. The words echo in my head as I have already sent Blake a message, that I’m ready to book him for therapy, no more pretending. A sound tears out of my chest before I can stop it—a sharp, frustrated scream that fills the hotel room and bounces off the walls. I press my palms to my face, breath shaking. “I don’t understand,” I whisper. “I don’t understand why Hardin is punishing me.” My chest aches like it’s being slowly crushed. I wipe my tears angrily, as if that will erase how weak I feel. As if crying makes this any less real. I go through my night routine on autopilot. Shower. Lotion. Pajamas. The motions are familiar, empty. I order drinks to the room, too many and drink until my head feels light and my thoughts blur. It’s the only way I sleep. If I don’t drink, I dream. And in my dreams, Steve is always there—lifeless, unmoving, eyes empty. Watching me. So I drink until the images fade. *** I w

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR The memory hits me all at once. Four years ago, when I was nobody. When I hid behind dim lights and loud music. When survival mattered more than pride. I remember my boss calling me aside that night. He said some wealthy women wanted a private dancer. No mask. Just me. I said no at first. I always danced masked. It was the rule I made for myself. Then he told me the amount. It was more money than I could earn in months. Enough to cover my aviation school fees. Enough to breathe. So I agreed. I remember the white lingerie. Soft. Thin. Revealing far more than I was comfortable with. I remember the room filled with perfume and laughter, glasses clinking, women watching me like I was an object they’d bought for the night. I danced. I smiled. I did what I had to do. I never forgot their faces. Hardin’s voice snaps me back to the present. “Melissa,” he says calmly. “Meet my mother. Mrs. Valentina Massimo.” My heart stutters. “And Mom,” he adds, “this is my

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX A few sharp gasps rise behind us. I don’t turn to look. I already know what I will see, staff frozen in place, eyes wide, fear written all over their faces. Then, just as quickly, they scatter. Back to their duties. Back to pretending nothing happened. Silence is a skill in this house. Valentina steps closer, her voice dropping to something cold and full of hatred. “The same way you slipped into my son’s life,” she says, “I will make sure you slip right back out.” My fingers curl into fists at my sides. Every part of me is shaking with rage. I could unleash it. I could show her the version of me she’s provoking. But I swallow it down. She turns on her heel and walks away, leaving me standing there, my cheek still burning, my chest rising and falling too fast. A moment later, a young staff member approaches carefully, like she’s afraid I might shatter. “Ma’am,” she says softly, pity in her eyes, “I can take you to your room now.” “Yes,” I whisper. “Pl

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT Breakfast ends the way it begins: heavy, quiet, and filled with things no one wants to say out loud.The clinking of cutlery sounds too loud in the massive dining room. No one speaks anymore. Valentina sits stiffly, Ivy looks pleased in a way that makes my skin crawl, and Hardin stares ahead like he is already somewhere else.When he finally stands up, it is abrupt and final.“I’ll be out for a few hours,” he says, adjusting his wristwatch. His eyes flick to me briefly. “Be ready by eight. I’ll pick you up. We’re going to the club tonight.”No explanation. No invitation for objections. Then he walks away.I watch his back disappear down the hallway, my chest tight with a mix of irritation and tiredness. Staying inside this mansion, surrounded by people who see me as an inconvenience, will drive me mad. So I do the only thing that makes sense.I leave.The island is breathtaking in a way that feels unreal. White stone paths curve through manicured gree

CHAPTER FORTY The club slowly breathes back to life. Music swells again. Laughter returns. People dance like nothing ever happened, like violence didn’t just ripple through the room minutes ago. It’s strange how quickly the world moves on I drink more. Too much. The burn of alcohol dulls my thoughts and loosens my tongue. Ivy is already wasted, slumped into the couch, words tumbling out of her mouth in nonsense. I don’t care enough to listen. I stand, swaying slightly, and decide I need air or answers. Hardin’s office. I stumble through the hallway, muttering to myself, heels clicking unevenly against the floor. The door is unlocked. I push it open and walk in. He’s seated behind his desk, focused, cold, surrounded by paperwork and shadows. A cigarette burns between his fingers, smoke curling thickly around him, filling the space until it feels heavy and intimate. He looks up at me once. “You’re drunk,” he says flatly. Then he looks back down at the documents like I’m just