Enjoy the second chapter of Unhealthy Obsession, part I. (Note: This is the sequel to Unholy Intentions, and it’s coming out by the end of this month!) (READ Chapter I of Unhealthy Obsession here and stay tuned for more goodies until the ARCs are released. Genre: Dark Romance, Billionaire Romance, Bodyguard Romance, Secret Society, Unhinged Hero, Dirty Smut, BookTok Favorites and Trigger Warnings to name a few. You’ve been warned.
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Hailey
I slap my palms against the double doors that lead to what used to be Bobby’s training hall and is now Priest’s main assembly room. I have to lean my whole weight against the dark, lacquered wood to push them open. By the time I’m staring at Priest’s black-clad back, I’m panting, but I’m also angry as fuck, which is a blessing, considering how I still morph into a puddle of blabbering idiocy whenever he looks at me.
“You can’t do this, you cannot do this,” I manage, my voice shaking.
The men surrounding Priest step away, opening the view to what they’d been working on—a holographic representation of the mansion and its grounds floating on top of Priest’s desk. The web of red dots and laser routes pervading the model serves as a brutal reminder of the impossible levels of security he’s put into place, reminding me there’s no escape. “It feels like every damn bud in the rose garden has eyes and ears,” Kira said earlier today as she shook the water off her umbrella in the loggia. Spotting the two Clerics shadowing me beyond the lobby pillars, she swallowed whatever else she wanted to say before we went up to the second floor, where the entire Gekko Studios is being moved. Equipment and furniture is still being brought in as I stand here fuming.
“Ms. Saintpatrick,” the other Clerics greet, lowering their heads, while Priest stares at me with an opaque look in his lynx eyes. It cuts so fucking deep, deeper than I care to admit.
In my head, I replay the night when he said he was my prison. I’ve held my ground since then, forcing myself to hate him. On the inside, I want to beg for his chains.
“You can’t lock me in this house, just like he used to do,” I spit out, trying to hide how much his presence affects me.
I think of my former guards’ contorted bodies heaped in a pile at the foot of the service stairs to reinforce my resentment against Priest Ward. The memory still gives me nightmares, and in each one, I look down at them while holding hands with their killer. With the man who orphaned their children, and is no better for it, just because he looks after all of them financially.
The killer staring me in the eye right now. Cold, collected, and looking forbiddingly mouthwatering in that Clerical black suit with the gill-like cuts on the sides that remind everyone how much of a shark he is.
“How long are you going to keep this up?” I demand, holding his stare and hoping to find a crack in his granite mask. “How long are you going to keep me hostage in this place?”
“Hostage? The palazzo belongs to you.” His deep voice drifts across the room, licking over my senses like a shadow of sin. “The entire premises span over the equivalent of several city blocks, all of it at your disposal.”
“I’m still on a fucking leash.”
His eyes narrow into slits, everything about him harder, colder. “Not yet, but I would indeed put you on one, if that’s what it took to keep you safe.”
“Keep me safe,” I walk closer. “This isn’t you keeping me safe, Priest, it’s you keeping me prisoner.”
“You live like a princess,” he counters.
I point my finger at him. “I see what you’re trying to do. Don’t.”
“But can you argue with it?” He gestures toward the windows. “You live in a mansion with sweeping private gardens, in the most exclusive city suburb. You own one of the world’s most prestigious animation studios, relocated here entirely for your convenience. Every one of your stepfather’s companies is now under your control, with entire teams of experts at your disposal.” His voice turns silky, edged with cunning. “You live the poshest of lives. Cocooned in absolute luxury.”
“I live in chains!” I spell out. “And fuck you for making it sound like I’m a spoiled brat.”
The closer I get, the further away the other Clerics move, pulling out devices to busy themselves. They never dare intervene between Priest and me.
“Why are you even still here, still protecting me?” I argue. “Bobby is locked in the basement, his allies eliminated.”
“All besides Rowan Sheffield.”
I narrow my eyes. “Even if he’s still on the loose, it’s not like he can shoot at our windows again anytime soon. The Order is all over him.”
“I don’t think he was acting alone, or of his own accord. I need to be sure before I tick this mission off as complete. All we have on his whereabouts is speculation, and we need hard facts.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Neither he nor his allies would dare come after me out in the open, not after everything that happened. Besides, you said it yourself—the shooting wasn’t for me. Someone was targeting you. Sending you a message.”
“Exactly. And that someone is still unknown and on the loose,” he says, calm but adamant. “Protocol dictates that you remain inside, under my permanent surveillance.”
“This is ridiculous. I’m just a girl, not a nuclear facility. This is overkill.”
Priest approaches, slowly, methodically. I should step away, make sure there’s a safe distance between us, but I wait for him to get close enough so I can breathe him in. No matter how fiercely I fight myself, I still crave his scent of mystery, danger, and ghost stories on October nights.
“You’re not wrong, and I’ve been talking to Zayne about that. Why would the Order activate the highest-ranked Cleric to protect an ordinary girl like she’s a warhead? We didn’t come up with the answer, but a way to find out.”
I swallow hard at that word, ordinary. I never had a problem with it until it came out of his mouth. Damn my stupid heart for wanting to be special to him.
I grit my teeth. “But if the shooting didn’t have anything to do with me—”
“It had to do with me protecting you. With your true identity. We don’t get to be sloppy about this, Hailey. We have to find out why you’re so important to the Order.”
I sink into his deliciously claustrophobic presence, hating how much of a sucker I am for his hypnotic attention.
“Okay, so how do we do it?”
“We have two leads. Two people who may have the answer. I was going to interrogate one of them today, but now that you’re here and complaining about feeling like a hostage, I think you should join me. It would make the interrogation less…brutal.”
I cock my head to the side. “Are you trying to tempt me into complicity?”
“I could always coerce you into it.”
“No need. Temptation is working. I need to get out of here as soon as possible.”
His mien turns graver.
“You might not feel that way once you hear who we’re seeing.”
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ARCs coming soon! Leave a comment or drop me an e-mail at anacalin@theromancetrove.com for an ARC, if you’d like to get the whole e-book for free ahead of release. In return, I would love if you could post a shot review on Amazon, Goodreads and/or Bookbub on the day of release, which will be before the end of this month. Stay tuned for many more goodies coming up .)