Lahat ng Kabanata ng She Was His Obsession. Now She's Everyone's: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

The kiss cam finds them first.Of course it does. Luna Quinn and Julian Hayes are standing near the pit of the amphitheater, bathed in the chaotic neon glow of the stage lights, and even in a surging crowd of twenty thousand, they possess the kind of magnetic, effortless beauty that a roaming camera simply cannot resist.Luna is draped in a bias-cut white slip dress that clings to her curves like a well-kept secret, while Julian stands broad-shouldered and immaculately sharp in a tailored dark shirt. The massive LED screen above the stage catches them, freezing them in fifty-foot-tall high definition, and the crowd collectively loses its mind.The rule is simple. The camera lands on you, you kiss.The host grins into his mic. "So—are we looking at a power couple, or just two incredibly good-looking strangers who are about to make each other's night?"Julian doesn't bother answering with words. His arm finds the curve of Luna's waist, pulling her in with a slow, deliberate grace, as th

Half an hour later, Luna is sitting on the cold concrete steps of the precinct, the adrenaline finally crashing.She is wrapped in a heavy, expensive wool coat that isn't hers—someone had draped it over her shoulders during the bureaucratic chaos, and she had pulled it tight without thinking.Ethan emerges from the glass doors. He crosses the distance between them without hurrying, holding two steaming cups, and silently extends one toward her.Hot chocolate.She takes it, her numb fingers wrapping around the cardboard."The officers from earlier have been officially suspended," he states flatly. "The hotel manager was fired ten minutes ago."She takes a slow sip. She says nothing."You shouldn't go back to that suite.""I know." She grips the cup tighter. "My luggage is still in the lobby.""I'll take you wherever you need to go."She desperately wants to say no. She opens her mouth to reject him, to spit venom, but what comes out instead is a quiet, ragged exhale."Fine," she whispe

The private room on the second floor of Harlow's most exclusive members' bar is exactly as Luna remembers it—dark oak paneling, low amber lighting, the kind of acoustics that swallow secrets whole. The city's old-money crowd keeps this place for exactly that reason.Luna sits casually at a premium corner table, the pristine white of her dress standing out brightly against the dark leather upholstery, her dark hair cascading loose down her back. She is laughing brightly at something the person beside her has just murmured, her head tilted back, her posture projecting total, untouchable ease.Ethan is sitting directly beside her.Not across the table, maintaining a respectable distance. Beside her.He is leaning in, positioned so close that their shoulders are nearly brushing. They are close enough that any casual observer in the room would instantly, undoubtedly have questions about the nature of their relationship.He's been doing it all evening.Luna's been pretending not to notice.

Across town, however, the reality is entirely different.The Quinn house is lit from the inside, warm and golden against the cold October night, and Luna feels something loosen in her chest the moment she turns onto the familiar street.She has spent four years actively telling herself that she didn't miss it. She has, quite frankly, been lying.Her mother pulls the heavy front doors open before Luna even reaches the bottom step, and then both of her parents are suddenly there.Luna walks straight into the grounding kind of embrace that instantly reminds a person exactly what it feels like to be completely safe."You could have called," Mrs. Quinn murmurs into her dark hair, holding on far too tightly for the words to carry any real reproach."I wanted to surprise you." Luna pulls back. "You're freezing. Why are you standing outside? Go in.""You're the one who showed up completely unannounced at eleven o'clock at night—""Mom. Inside. Cold. Go."Her father—always quiet, always smilin

The Maybach glides away from the Vane estate, leaving the glittering gala and its suffocating politics behind, but the tension inside the velvet-lined cabin is entirely its own weaponized atmosphere.Luna's fingers are still locked securely around Marcus's waist.She isn't loosening her grip—if anything, she is deliberately tightening it, her manicured nails pressing ruthlessly through his expensive suit jacket, piercing the cotton of his shirt, and biting directly into his skin.The sharp, localized burn has long since crossed the boundary between mild discomfort and something he would describe as genuinely impressive. The faint, metallic scent of copper that begins to bloom in the enclosed space confirms what Marcus already suspects.She has broken skin. She is absolutely doing this on purpose, a quiet, bloody retribution against the man who had orchestrated her forced exile four years ago."Luna Quinn," Marcus says, his voice vibrating with a very specific, dark quality of restrain