Obsession With Mr Right Novels & Stories

I felt so happy. "She is so tiny!" Raymond exclaimed as I giggled. I couldn't ask for more. A happy family. Everything. In the end, I realized, 'There's no couple like us. We are different from everyone. Because our relationship is based on obsession not on love. We are each other's obsession. I was an idiot for not to realize that little thing that our obsession is our love for each other. Our obsession shows our ETERNAL LOVE We are each other's ETERNAL OBSESSION.' THE END

In his hand was a trash bag. I was about to say hello when my eyes caught the figure above his head. My smile froze. There, glowing in vivid red, was the number: 1,111. The worst part was that it was still fluctuating. My blood ran cold. That was pure bloodlust. It was a raw, undisguised intent to kill. I had never seen such a high value before. I once came across a creep on the subway at 300, and I thought that was bad.

"Like the one you gave last month?" The man paled. "That was an unforeseen complication with customs." "I don't pay you to foresee complications, Mr. Herrera. I pay you to prevent them." Dante set down his cup with deliberate precision. "You have until Friday. After that, your options become... limited." Herrera nodded frantically, recognizing the dismissal. As he scurried from the room, Marco Valenti entered, his expression controlled but eyes gleaming with news. "She's moving," Marco said once they were alone. "The Russo woman sold her mother's necklace at Golden Opportunity."

Lilliana says. “My father’s ideals are outdated. He is a dictator with sole control over everything. Don’t you also want a say? Don’t you also want power? Why should one man have everything? You can all become rich. You can all share in the power. Just give us your support a little while longer” she says and the men cheer. Amber sits seductively on the table, exposing her cleavage to the room. I cannot believe these men are buying the nonsense she is spewing. If there is one thing I have seen over the years, it is that there can only be one Boss. The man sitting below me at the head of the table, still has his arms on the rests. He is looking out over the room. The men are all deep in conver

- I don't like this kind of thing, it always comes with a nothing-with-nothing question. "As long as it's not something too personal, I'm all ears." - I could tell that he was in no mood to talk about anything. "Have you and James ever had anything? Don't get me wrong, but his obsession is not normal." "Again? How many times will it be necessary for me to tell you no. I never dated Maurício, my focus was never on men, he was just a big son of a bitch who managed to ruin my life and make everything worse whenever he had the opportunity."

Jennifer, who was only a year younger than Vicky, had experienced no less than Vicky over the years. Seeing Vicky's interest in the topic, Jennifer spoke up, "Anthony's mother told me that most obsessions aren't from true emotions, but rather a person's deeply ingrained principles. Some people have a strong obsession with certain things, which may be due to experiencing something profound that contradicts their beliefs."

His expression shifted – something between calculation and barely contained fury. "Problem?" I asked. "Nothing I can't handle," he replied, pulling me closer. "Some pieces are simply moved off the board." The statement hung between us, loaded with unspoken meaning. In Nathan's world, problems weren't solved – they were eliminated. Later, in the privacy of his penthouse, Nathan's possessive nature emerged fully. His hands traced my body with a mix of desire and ownership, a physical manifestation of his need to control every aspect of his world.

Love is powerful addiction that can make a man lose control of his senses. *** “You aren’t allowed to park here, Sir!” The young policeman pointed at the blue sign with a circle and a red diagonal line. “Shit! All my lifetime, this is the first time I’m doing a foolish thing and making ashamed of myself,” Ansel grumbled. He leaned back his head on his seat of pride while looking up at the ceiling, still unbelieved that he could be so reckless just because of a woman.

Why can’t anything ever go my way? Why do I always lose just when I think I’ve won? And why the fuck is the man I’m supposed to marry standing in front of her suite, arguing with her boyfriend over his right to see her? A cold chill runs through me as I take in the scene — the tension in his shoulders, the desperate edge in his voice. This isn’t just some unresolved ex drama. This is obsession. And I’m the idiot who thought I could change him. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I force my voice to be steady, light, like my heart isn’t sinking straight into my stomach.

I said, my voice low and shaking. “This is devotion.” He stepped inside, closing the door. “You think I could just forget you? Pretend you didn’t exist? I had to know you were safe. I had to see you breathing, moving, living.” “You had no right—” “I had every right,” he cut in, his tone suddenly hard. “You were mine. You are mine.” I shook my head, but my pulse was racing. “This isn’t love. This is obsession.” “Call it whatever you want.” He moved closer until my back hit the wall. “It doesn’t change the fact that no one knows you like I do. No one has touched you like I have. No one else ever will.”