MY WILD OBSESSION のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 80

~CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO~ The warmth evaporates from my body like someone opened a window in winter. The shower is running. Hardin is already inside, water crashing against tile like nothing in the world is burning down. Of course he is calm. He always is. He should be handling this. He’s the one who killed him. A dry scoff escapes my lips as I dial Sophia back. She answers immediately. “Mrs. Amelia! What happened to your phone? I’ve been blowing it up. And are you okay? I heard you were ambushed on your way from the restaurant yesterday.” I sit up, pulling the sheet to my chest. “Oh my God. How does news fly so fast?” “You should be more worried about what everyone is saying,” she says sharply. My stomach tightens. “And that is?” She lowers her voice into business mode. “Mrs. Amelia, the Uber driver who drove you yesterday has died. And Steve’s death, your name is still connected to it. Social media is out of control. Investors are asking questions. Some partners are saying the

~CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR~ I don’t go up to him. I let him watch. Instead, I turn and walk toward the lower VIP section where the well-dressed elite sit with quiet arrogance and expensive liquor. Conversations soften as I approach. They shift, subtly making space for me without being asked. I take my place near the railing, facing the stage. The dancers move under flashing lights—hips rolling, bodies bending, hands sliding over skin. The music pulses deep and heavy. I let it take me. My shoulders loosen. My hips sway slightly with the rhythm. I feel alive. I glance up toward the top floor. He’s no longer there. Interesting. A man seated beside me clears his throat softly, like he wants to speak but doesn’t know if he’s allowed. His eyes flicker toward me, then away. He’s cautious. He should be. A server walks past carrying a tray of shots. I extend my hand to take one. Before my fingers can close around the glass, a firm hand wraps around my wrist. My eyes lift slowly. Hardin

~CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX~ I walk over and sit on the sofa opposite her, crossing my legs carefully. Snow stays in my arms, curled tightly against my chest, her warmth steadying me. Valentina watches me the way people study an investment they’re unsure about. “I know you married my son because he has leverage over you,” she says smoothly. “I don’t know what that leverage is… but I can help you.” There it is. The offer wrapped as concern. I exhale slowly, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “I’ve heard you. Can I go now?” “You haven’t given me an answer.” Snow shifts slightly, pressing her face under my chin. And for a moment, I drift. Isn’t this what I once wanted? An exit. A clean way out of a marriage that started as control and negotiation. I wanted out. God, I wanted out. I used to count imaginary days, plan imaginary escapes, build scenarios in my head where I left without looking back. I used to imagine freedom constantly—waking up without calculating his moods,

~CHAPTER SEVENTY EIGHT~ AMELIA’S POV I stretch lazily across the bed, a yawn escaping my lips as my phone keeps ringing beside me. The sound drags me out of sleep. It’s lying right next to my pillow, vibrating against the sheets. Half-awake, I reach for it and glance at the screen. The moment I see the name, my sleepy expression melts into a smile. ‘Hardin.’ I swipe to answer. “Hello, husband,” I say, my voice still soft from sleep. “Good morning, Amelia. I’m already flying in today.” His voice is flat. The words are normal, but something about the tone feels… different. I pause for a second, trying not to overthink it. “Oh,” I say lightly, sitting up a little. “I wasn’t expecting you back today, but I love it.” “Yeah,” he replies shortly. “I’ll see you soon.” And then the line goes dead. I stare at my phone for a moment. That was… quick. Slowly, I lower it onto the bed beside me. Something is definitely wrong. I can feel it. Hardin is many things—cold, intense, unpre

~CHAPTER EIGHTY~ AMELIA’S POV I walk to the bed and sit, staring into nothing. The silence presses in, thick and suffocating. Disappointment lingers in my chest, heavier than it should be. A knock breaks through it. “Mrs. Amelia,” a staff member calls softly. “Miss Sophia is waiting on the main floor.” I don’t move at first. “I’ll be down soon,” I say, my voice lower than I intended. Her footsteps fade, leaving the room hollow again. We’re supposed to sign the papers today. Secure the property. A step forward. But after what just happened. I don’t have the energy to pretend everything is fine. I push myself up and step out of the bedroom, moving through the penthouse wing and into the hallway. The house feels different. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, Sophia turns to me immediately. “Good morning, Miss Amelia. You’re not ready, and it’s getting late.” “I’m not going,” I say. She pauses. “But it’s just the signing. We can finalize everything before 7 p.