All Chapters of HIS BLIND OBSESSION : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

110 Chapters

Chapter 11 — Noah’s POV

I was fine. Completely fine. Totally normal. Just a guy at his desk doing his job like he hadn’t been fired and unfired in the same sixty seconds by a man who had given absolutely no explanation and expected absolutely no reaction. Fine. I typed the same sentence into the Henderson preparation document four times before I realised it was the same sentence. I deleted three of them. The thing was, I had been ready. When Damien said fired, I’d felt the floor drop out from under me. I’d said okay because okay was all I had left. Then I’d picked up the tray and walked toward the door. Three steps. That was all it took for me to run the numbers. Eli’s timeline. The sixty percent. Caleb’s face when I came home and told him the job hadn’t worked out. Three steps, and I’d gone through all of it. I’d come out the other side with nothing except okay. Apparently, that had been the wrong answer. Because then Damien had called me back and told me to sit down like the last thirty s

Chapter 12 — Damien’s POV

Victoria Mercer collected people. I knew that before she hung up. I’d known it before she called. I’d sat across negotiating tables from her twice in the last four years. Both times, I’d walked away with exactly what I came for and a mild suspicion that she’d also gotten exactly what she wanted. I just hadn’t figured out what that was until later. This time, I’d figured it out before the call ended. The liability clause. Noah in a room full of my executives, catching something their combined legal experience had missed. Victoria Mercer on the phone four minutes after my team walked out of that conference room. Someone had called her. Which meant someone in that room was already hers. And now she wanted dinner. And she wanted Noah there. I pulled up her profile on my phone. Not because I needed to. Because I wanted to see it in writing. Third paragraph. The collecting. Seven people in ten years. Each one quietly lifted from somewhere else, offered something better and

Chapter 13 — Noah’s POV

The shirt was hanging on my door when I woke up Thursday morning. White. Crisp. The kind of fabric that had never been near a sale rack in its entire life. There was no tag because someone had removed it, but I could tell from the weight alone that Mrs. Hale had not gone to Zara. I stood in my doorway in my socks and stared at it. Damien Cole had bought me a shirt. Not personally, obviously. Mrs. Hale had arranged it because he’d instructed her to, which meant he had thought about what I was going to wear to a dinner he had summoned me to and decided my three shirts weren’t good enough. Then he’d done something about it without making it a conversation. I took it off the hanger. Put it on. Looked in the mirror. Then looked away. I had bigger things to think about than shirts. I had Victoria Mercer to think about. Whatever she was planning. And the fact that Damien had told me don’t accept it like that was a complete sentence that required no explanation. I’d said okay

Chapter 14 — Damien’s POV

I had made a mistake. Not with the dinner. Not with Victoria or the restructuring or the forty million dollars sitting on the table waiting for someone to move it in the right direction. The dinner was fine. Calculated. Intentional. Exactly what I had planned. The mistake was the shirt. I’d told Mrs. Hale to arrange it without thinking about what it meant. Or I’d thought about what it meant and done it anyway, which was worse. And now Noah Carter was sitting across the table in white cotton that fit him correctly, Victoria Mercer was looking at him like she was already writing his offer letter in her head, and Daniel was sitting beside me being deliberately, aggressively pleasant in the way he used when he wanted information. “Noah,” Daniel said. “How long have you been in New York?” “Three years. Came for university. Stayed.” “Literature degree, right? Damien mentioned it.” I had not mentioned it. I said nothing. “He did,” Noah said. There was a slight pause in his vo

Chapter 15 — Noah’s POV

I should not have said that. The second it left my mouth, I knew it. Too honest. Too much. The kind of thing you said at two in the morning to yourself in the dark, not out loud in a hallway to your employer while he stood close enough that I could hear him breathing and still gave me absolutely nothing back. Nothing. Just silence. The specific Damien Cole kind of silence that could mean anything or everything, or simply the fact that he’d filed what I’d said under irrelevant and was waiting for me to finish embarrassing myself so we could go back to dinner. I turned around. “Forget I said that. I’ll go back in.” “Noah.” I stopped. Not Mr. Carter. Noah. He’d never done that before. Not once in four weeks and four days. Always Mr. Carter. Flat and professional. Two syllables that created exactly the kind of distance he seemed to prefer. I turned around slowly. He was closer than I expected. I didn’t know when he’d moved. He stood in the middle of the hallway with his

Chapter 16 - Damien’s POV

Victoria left at ten fifteen. I knew because I heard her heels cross the dining room floor, that familiar rhythm of someone who had gotten exactly what she wanted and had no reason to stay a minute longer than necessary. She said goodbye to Daniel warmly. She said goodbye to me. Then she said goodbye to Noah. There was a pause before it. Just a second, but I noticed it. Her voice dropped slightly when she spoke to him, like she was saying something meant only for him. Noah answered quietly, and then I heard Victoria’s heels move toward the elevator. A few seconds later, she was gone. Silence settled over the penthouse. I had spent the entire dinner tracking Noah without meaning to. The way he placed his glass down when he was thinking. The slight change in his breathing when Victoria pushed the envelope toward him. And the silence after he picked it up. He had read it. Then he put it back down. I hadn’t expected that. “Well,” Daniel said. “Don’t.” “I haven’t said anythin

Chapter 17 — Noah’s POV

I had not slept. Not properly. I had spent the night staring at the ceiling, doing that specific kind of not-sleeping where your body is horizontal but your brain has decided to hold a full board meeting without you. The agenda included Eli’s bills being paid, Victoria Mercer’s chess-piece smile, Daniel Cole’s voice carrying clearly through the penthouse saying, You are allowed to want things, and the fact that Damien had stopped walking when I said his name. He had actually stopped walking. I’d said Damien, and every muscle in that man’s body had gone still. I’d noticed. And now I was never going to unknow that I’d noticed. I had no idea what to do with that information. I got up at 5:58. Made his coffee. 6:28. Right side. Two inches from the corner. “Good morning,” I said. Silence. Normal. Expected. Fine. I went back to my desk and worked until eleven-thirty without thinking about anything except Henderson, Mercer and the three emails marked urgent that were actually

Chapter 18 — Damien’s POV

Daniel left at two thirty. I heard him say goodbye to Noah in the entrance hall. Warm and easy, the particular sound of my brother charming someone without trying, which was the most irritating thing about him and always had been. Noah laughed at something he said. A real laugh. Short and surprised. Nothing performed about it. I had never made him laugh like that. I filed that away and did not examine it. The elevator closed. The penthouse went quiet. I was already in my office. I had come straight here from the car, coat still on, sat down at my desk and pulled up the Henderson file because Henderson was real and concrete and required actual thought. Exactly what I needed. I read the same paragraph three times. Down the hall, Noah moved through the penthouse with his usual economy. Coat put away. Kettle. His desk chair. The quiet click of his keyboard starting up. Normal. Exactly normal. Except that at lunch, his fingers had been two inches from mine on the tablecloth, a

Chapter 19 — Noah’s POV

Something was wrong. I didn’t know what. That was the part that was making me slightly insane. The not knowing. I had spent five weeks learning the precise language of this penthouse, and right now it was saying something I couldn’t translate. Damien had not come out of his office. Not at six. Not at seven. Not at eight, when I brought his coffee and knocked. “Come in.” I set it down on the right side, two inches from the corner. “Good morning.” Nothing. I left. At eight forty-five, I brought him another coffee. Same thing. It was ten forty-three, and his second coffee was getting cold. I sat at my desk. Worked. Or tried to. The Mercer correspondence was open in front of me, Henderson’s preparation beside it, along with three other things that needed doing. I’d been staring at the same email for twenty minutes. The medical appointment. Monday. Eight a.m. He had asked me to arrange the car and move his nine o’clock, given me nothing else, and I hadn’t pushed. I h

Chapter 20 — Damien’s POV

I was still awake at midnight. This was not unusual. Sleep had been a negotiation since the accident, something I arrived at eventually through sheer exhaustion rather than anything resembling peace. I had made my terms with it a long time ago. Midnight meant work. Work meant control. Control meant the particular silence of this penthouse arranged exactly the way I needed it. I was not working. I was sitting at my desk with the Mercer file open in front of me, staring at the same page without reading a word. My mind kept going back to Monday’s appointment with Walsh. The word development. The two days between now and then that I had to fill with something that wasn’t thinking about it. Down the hall, Noah’s light was still on. I knew because I could hear him. The quiet sounds of him at his desk, the occasional shift of his chair, the rhythm of someone working steadily through something. He had been at it since nine. It was now past midnight, and I hadn’t told him to go to

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