All Chapters of His Secret Obsession: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Arie’s POVNico studied the destruction around us for another moment before removing his phone from his pocket. He made a call without taking his eyes from me.“Come upstairs,” he said when someone answered. “Bring two maids and have the room cleared.”He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.“I don’t want anyone touching my things,” I said.“They are already handling your things.”“This is not my room.”“It is now.”“I don’t want it.”His expression remained frustratingly calm. “You’ll need somewhere to sleep.”“I’d rather sleep on the floor of my apartment.”“The apartment you left unsecured?”“The apartment you broke into.”Nico’s gaze dropped to my bare feet. Broken glass surrounded the bed, glittering across the carpet beneath the warm light. Before I understood his intention, he moved toward me and lifted me into his arms.“Put me down!”My hands pressed against his shoulders, but weakness still remained in my body. Nico carried me across the room as though

Arie’s POV“I wasn’t asking.”Nico’s words settled between us as his body kept mine trapped against the locked door. He wasn’t touching me, but I could feel his warmth through the small distance separating us. The familiar scent of his cologne surrounded me, pulling memories from places I had spent months trying to seal shut.I hated that my body still recognised him.I hated that beneath the anger and fear, some broken part of me had missed him.“You cannot force me to leave my life,” I said.His eyes remained fixed on mine. “You call this a life?”“Yes. I have a home, a job, and people who care about me.”“Hale?”“Shelly. My colleagues. People who don’t believe caring about me gives them the right to control me.”His jaw tightened. “You barely know them.”“They know the woman I am now. You only know the girl who obeyed you.”“You never obeyed me.”“I trusted you. That was worse.”Something shifted behind his expression, but he concealed it before I could understand it.“Move away fr

Arie’s POVFor the rest of the week, Ethan kept his promise.He didn’t mention the kiss again. He didn’t find unnecessary reasons to touch me or attempt to turn every conversation into something personal. During meetings, he treated me exactly as he had before the celebration—challenging my ideas, listening when I defended them, and occasionally irritating me simply because he enjoyed watching me argue.The business card remained inside the hidden pocket of my wallet.I had no intention of using the number written across the back, yet I checked for it more often than I wanted to admit. Knowing it was there brought a comfort I wasn’t accustomed to feeling. For most of my life, protection had arrived with conditions. Uncle Angelo protected me because I was his brother’s daughter. Nico protected me because he believed I belonged to him.Ethan had offered help without asking for anything in return.That frightened me almost as much as it reassured me.The black vehicles outside the office

Nico’s POVAdrian’s report arrived before sunrise.I hadn’t slept. The photograph remained on my desk, turned facedown because every time I looked at it, I imagined my hands around Ethan Hale’s throat.Adrian entered carrying a thick folder and placed it in front of me. Leon followed, although no one had invited him.“Ethan Alexander Hale,” Adrian began. “Thirty-two. Chief executive of Hale International. Hotels, private resorts, property development, and logistics holdings across the United States and Europe.”“I know what his company owns.”“The public companies aren’t the problem.”That caught my attention.Adrian opened the folder and pushed several documents toward me. “His father used the logistics division to move sensitive cargo for governments and private military contractors. Ethan sold most of those contracts after taking control, but he kept the security network.”“Men?”“Former intelligence officers, soldiers, and private contractors. Hale isn’t part of our world, but he

By seven the following evening, my bedroom looked as though a storm had passed through it. Dresses covered the bed, shoes lay scattered across the floor, and Shelly stood in front of my wardrobe with the determination of a woman preparing for battle.“You told me you had nothing to wear,” she said, holding up a black dress. “That was clearly a lie.”“I said I had nothing appropriate.”“You own enough dresses to attend the wedding of a European prince.”The word wedding caused something inside me to tighten, but I concealed it by picking up another dress and returning it to its hanger.Most of the clothes had travelled with me from Italy. I had packed them while trying not to think about the life I was leaving behind. Since arriving in Seattle, I had worn simple office clothes and comfortable sweaters. The dresses remained hidden at the back of my wardrobe, belonging to a version of me who attended private dinners, charity galas, and parties filled with people whose smiles rarely reach