All Chapters of I AM MY STEPBROTHER'S OBSESSION : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

NYRA'S POV I got to the office early again, same as the last few days. I wanted to finish fixing the risk section in the Henderson report before things got busy. The way I laid it out yesterday was cleaner, and I was in the middle of moving a few paragraphs around when Luca’s voice came through the intercom. “Nyra. My office.” No hello. Just that. I grabbed my tablet and walked in. He was standing by his desk, and on the chair in front of him sat a black shoebox. He looked up when I came in, eyes moving over me once like he was checking something. “These came in this morning,” he said, nodding at the box. “Try them on.” I opened it. Inside were a pair of sleek black heels. Higher than what I normally wore, but not crazy. They looked sharp, expensive, the kind that would make my legs look longer in the skirt I already had on. I glanced at him. “You had these sent today?” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Figured they’d go with the outfit. Go put them on.” I took the box

NYRAS POV I got to the office early again. I told myself it was because I wanted to finish fixing the risk section in the Henderson report before the day got busy, but that wasn’t the full truth. The truth was that I didn’t want to sit at home with my own thoughts any longer. Last night had been long and restless. Richard had fallen asleep beside me while I lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying everything that happened in Luca’s office the day before. The way his fingers had moved inside me. The filthy things he’d said in that low voice while I was shaking on his lap. The way the client call had cut through everything like cold water. I was still wearing the heels he’d given me, I only took them off when I wanted to sleep and I wore it back this morning. When I reached my desk, I pulled up the report and started moving sections around. The layout I’d suggested yesterday was already looking cleaner, and I was in the middle of adjusting the risk numbers when Luca’s voice came t

NYRA'S POV The suitcase sat open on the bed and I stood there staring at it like it might suddenly tell me something I didn't already know. Packed and unpacked twice already. Blazers on top, folded the way my mother taught me... smooth the sleeves, tuck the collar under, don't let anything wrinkle even if the world's on fire around you. Underneath, at the bottom where Richard would never think to dig, the black lace set wrapped in tissue paper. I'd wrapped it careful. Like it mattered. Like it was something worth protecting instead of something I should've thrown in the trash three weeks ago. My hands shook a little as I zipped the case shut. I told myself it was just the flight. I've never liked small planes, and a private jet's still just a fancy tin can with better seats, no matter what anyone says. That's what I told myself. It wasn't true, not even close, but it was easier to hold onto than the real thing sitting heavy in my chest. Richard drove me himself. He didn't have to.

NYRA'S POV He was gone almost fifteen minutes, and I spent every one of them staring at the closed cockpit door like it might open and hand me an answer. The flight attendant had come by once, offering more wine or water or anything at all to make the rest of the flight better, but I'd waved her off with a tight smile and gone back to pretending I wasn't counting seconds. When he finally came back down the narrow aisle, his face had rearranged itself into something almost normal, almost composed, but I'd been watching him too closely these last few weeks not to catch the seams. Jaw a little too tight. A muscle ticking under his left eye that had nothing to do with Henderson's CFO. Shoulders carrying weight that hadn't been there before the nurse called. "Everything okay?" I asked the second he dropped into the seat beside me. "George is stable." He didn't look at me when he said it. Just stared straight ahead like the back of the seat in front of him held answers. "Bad night. Not

NYRA'S POV Selene got about ten feet from us before she seemed to clock the way we were standing, too close, his hand still half-tangled near my jaw, and something in her face flickered and reset into a smile that didn't reach anywhere near her eyes. "There you are," she said to Luca, like I wasn't standing right there between them. "Daddy wants to talk numbers before we lose him to the bar again." "Give me a minute," Luca said, not moving his eyes off me. Something passed over her face, quick and sharp, and then she laughed, light and practiced like she'd done it a thousand times before. "Sure. Don't be too long, Luca, you know how he gets." She glanced at me then, just once, a quick once-over that catalogued the whole thing... my flushed face, the space between us that wasn't nearly wide enough to call professional... and turned back toward the pavilion without waiting for either of us to answer. I watched her go, my jaw tight