All Chapters of Obsessed With You? Hell Yeah!: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

DahliaThe billionaire everyone feared was on his knees in front of me, bleeding, smiling—and asking if I was finally ready to admit I was obsessed with him.A heavy drop of crimson hit the polished marble floor between us, splitting like a dark star. The copper scent of fresh blood cut through the expensive amber fragrance coating his skin, raw and suffocating. My fingers twitched against the bone handle of the utility blade in my right palm. The steel was warm, slick with a dampness that wasn't mine. Ten feet behind Rafe Hollis, slumped across the threshold of the glass terrace doors, lay a man who would never draw breath again.Rafe didn't even look back at the corpse. His focus stayed locked on me, his breathing remarkably even for someone holding a open wound in his left side. His dark tailored jacket was ruined, soaked through, but his lips curved into that quiet, terrifying tilt that usually meant someone’s empire was about to burn to the ground.“You finally stopped pretending

DahliaAfter what happened, we were led to the main dining hall of the Hollis manor; it was built for intimidation.Soaring double-height ceilings carved from dark, polished oak stretched overhead, anchored by a massive crystal chandelier that hung like a frozen waterfall. The light it cast was sharp and cold, gleaming off silver cutlery, hand-painted porcelain, and the dark mahogany table that could easily seat thirty people. Tonight, only four places were set.I walked into the room with my arm looped through Rafe’s. Underneath the fine silk of my long-sleeved dark dress, my muscles were coiled tight. Beneath my hand, I could feel the rigid, unyielding tension in his forearm. We were presenting the image of a man and his fixated lover, but to anyone trained in body language, we looked like two predators locked in a high-wire negotiation, waiting to see who would slip first.Sitting near the far end of the table was Orin Hollis, Rafe’s older brother. He had the same sharp, striking d

DahliaHours later, around 2 am, the manor had fallen into a heavy, suffocating silence.I stood in the center of the guest bedroom Rafe had assigned to me in the West Wing, staring up at the ornate plasterwork of the ceiling. Sleep was a distant, impossible concept. My bottom lip still throbbed with a faint, stinging heat from his mouth—hard, ruthless, and entirely unprovoked on the terrace. My right palm still felt numb from the force with which I had struck his cheekbone in front of his brother.“Better, Dahlia. Much better.” His words echoed in the quiet room, dark and mocking.I paced slowly to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside, the rain had turned into a thick, low-slung fog that crawled through the ancient oak trees in the courtyard, swallowing the estate whole.My mind kept looping back to the dining room. To Maelis Hollis, standing up with trembling, velvet-clad hands, her face as pale as fresh chalk as she stared through me.She had been shaken to her absolute core. The

Dahlia It was finally the diner. My eyes scanned the room looking to see anything unusual but never saw one. I sat to Rafe’s right, my fingers lightly resting near my crystal water goblet. The small employee badge with Orin’s young face stamped beside my father’s corporate title was currently tucked safely inside the lining of my leather clutch, resting on my lap like a loaded pistol. Across the long expanse of mahogany, Orin sat cutting his meat with deliberate, aggressive cuts. His fork scraped against porcelain with a sound that made my teeth ache. At the head of the table sat Maelis Hollis. She hadn't touched a single morsel on her plate. Her pale grey eyes remained fixed on me, unblinking, heavy with that ancient, rotting hatred that had nearly made her faint the night before. "You're remarkably quiet tonight, Miss Mercer," Orin drawled, setting his knife down with a loud clack. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, his dark eyes glittering with malicious amusem

Dahlia The blood-red words on the paper burned into my retinas long after I flicked off the bedside lamp. I sat on the edge of the oversized bed, staring at the dark window where rain continued to lash against the glass like thrown gravel. My pulse beat a fast, ragged rhythm in my ears. Someone at that table... Orin, Maelis, or maybe even Julianna with her venomous smile, had slipped that note into my purse while I was distracted by Rafe’s hands and heated words. They didn't just want me gone; they remembered something about me that I hadn't even fully pieced together yet. I folded the heavy cardstock, tucked it alongside Orin’s old badge inside my boot, and pulled on a pair of dark denim jeans and a fitted black sweater. It was 1:00 am. The estate was dead silent, wrapped in that heavy, suffocating stillness that only old money and buried sins can buy. I unlocked my bedroom door with a quiet, practiced click and slipped out into the corridor. Rule One of my contract with Rafe