The Wrong Obsession Lifetime Novels & Stories

MARCELLUS I don't answer immediately. Instead, I look at Nora. She's staring at the chocolate spilling across the plate, refusing to look at me. "...I do." No one utters a word. Even Sebastian has his narrowed gaze on me. "She's right." My voice is calm. "Obsession doesn't announce itself. One day you're simply... rearranging your entire life around another person without realizing you've already lost." A few contestants exchange glances. "And lies?" I continue. "They sometimes don't begin with bad intentions."

“Look around, Dante. You used to be here most nights—like clockwork. Ten onward, every fucking night. You were always reachable by phone if anyone needed you. But since Luna? Your obsession with her? You’re barely here. When you are here, you’re too busy fucking and playing house with her to remember that this place—your place—needs you.” I feel the anger rising, tightening in my chest. “Is there a fucking point to this?” I snap, already losing patience with her. “Yes!” she practically shouts, her voice cracking with intensity. “Jamie was right. This is unhealthy. Just because your latest obsession isn’t drugs or something equally fucked up doesn’t mean it’s any better. She’s wrecking your l

But they don’t know my past or the twisted things I was taught for years. I spent half my life being brainwashed into believing I was born in sin, possessed by the devil. Even though I don’t believe those lies anymore, that voice still whispers that I’m doing something wrong. Clarice says it’s normal and that I’ll eventually silence it. But for now, it makes me panic at the thought of crossing any moral line. That’s why I’m so obsessed with being “good.” They’ll never fully understand. So I stay quiet. We finally reach the mall parking lot, and a wave of excitement pushes away my worries. I desperately need new clothes—my online orders still haven’t arrived—and it’s been years since I’ve bee

“Why are you so obsessed with me?” “I’m crazy about you. I … can’t live without you.” “You’d been fine for four years,” said Qeiza.”You’ll also definitely live well for the rest of your life.” “Qei, please … give me a chance!” “Sorry, I can’t make it.” “Why? Do you really hate me that much?” “I’ve floated the pieces of my broken heart in the sea of tears,” said Qeiza. “It’ll be useless if you insist to put them together again.”

“You didn't say anything about having two videos. And the video she showed had significantly slight differences to them.” Significantly. Slightly. Was this woman dumb or what? How did she put two wrong sentences in one statement? “I told you. I don't care. I want the news off.” “That's not possible,” she said. “What?” “It's not possible, Mrs. Sophia,” she repeated. “It was broadcast live. There's no way to erase it completely from the internet.” “You mean you won't,” I said. She breathed calmly then answered. “It's just news. Some means to create a network. People love to watch drama. It's spicy especially when it's entertainment news.”

I’d rather have him hating me to the point of wanting me dead than continuing to waste his life being obsessed with a woman who belonged to someone else. Hate was something a person could get over. Hate was an emotion you could move away from, given enough time and distance. But obsession? It was like a drug. I knew that better than anyone. I had watched it destroy Max, and I had felt it simmering in my own blood for Damon. No matter how hard you tried to kick the habit, that obsession would burn just as strong four years later the moment you saw them again. “So… I truly… held no chance then,” he scoffed, his head falling back against the pillow as he looked away toward the window again.

Always watching. John noticed my gaze and followed it. His hand tightened on mine. Someone new he said quietly. Or someone old. The cycle may never truly die Liana. But we will keep living anyway. Together. I nodded and pulled him closer. Yes I whispered. Together. No matter who watches from the cliffs. The family laughed and played around us unaware for the moment. We held each other and chose to stay in the light. The obsession might linger but our love refused to break. And that was enough for today. Enough for a lifetime.

Not even for this nightmare I’m trapped in now. And last night… God. What we had—what we shared—I wouldn’t erase it. Not for a second. I don’t regret it. Not him. Not us. Because none of this—none of this—is the consequence of some mistake I made. Or something he did wrong. This isn’t karma. This isn’t punishment. This is something else entirely. Something twisted. Something rotten. This is being caught in the middle of a sick man’s obsession. A filthy, festering knot of control and hatred that has nothing to do with me—and yet has wrapped itself around my life like it owns it.

Dominic had considered this long ago. If she never manifested and never fulfilled her obsession, could her soul exist indefinitely? Yes. But a soul existed to fulfill its obsession. If it could fulfill it and chose not to, that choice would become its torment. In other words, if a soul survived yet refused to complete its obsession, it proved the obsession has faded. It could disappear at any moment. Dominic understood that better than anyone. Nothing and no one in this world could make him give up Lilith. He reached out and removed the ring from Lydia's finger. "All right. I'll go first. I'll come for you tomorrow morning."

"Monica's health was deteriorating at the rehab center, and her mental issues took a turn for the worse. Her obsession grew stronger. Then, with the help of an Arab inmate named Malik Affan, they both escaped the facility." My eyes widened as I connected the dots. "Malik Affan? I think he might be the one who killed Troy," I revealed, my mind racing with the implications.