BECOMING HIS OBSESSION
WARNING: This is a STALKER xSTALKER DARK ROMANCE. MUTUAL OBSESSION with DUAL POV.
SYNOPSIS
CARLOS:
Will she wake up if I wrap her hand around my length? My vision tunnels and I move closer to her spread legs, fisting my cock faster. My balls engorge & heart tighten
I throw my head back when the wave hit me & my cum spills onto her inner thigh. I watch it soak into the center of her cunt.
She stirs but doesn't wake. Instead a beautiful word slip from her full lips
"Carlos... " Did she just...
"Thinking of your prey, pretty doll?"
THALIA: "He won't do it"
That's what I thought, but as I watch the man I'm meant to kill, behead a woman without blinking,staring straight at me. I knew, I'm after a monster.
TRIGGER WARNINGS
BOTH:
Stalking
Surveillance
Wet dreams
Graphic violence
Weapons
Threats
Privacy|Home invasion
MMC
Somnophilia
Voyeurism
FMC
Murder
Poisoning
Gory murder board
Questionable morals.
Chapters
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Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE -
CARLOS POV
"Carlos." Damien's voice drops dangerously low.
"How do you know she's precise with her cuts?"
I don't reply. Just to humor myself-a tiny bit of fun.
His eyes dart between the road and me like I'm a dead man walking
"Don't tell me she stabbed you?!"
There it is. I smile.
"It's not fucking funny!"
Exactly. I restart the car.
"I watched a clip of her cutting off a guy's dick."
"Oh my God."
"For strategic purposes." I keep my tone light.
"And unlike me, Thalia only punishes bad guys. She does a good job at it."
"You watched a video of someone you call a kitten castrate a man?"
"He tried to rape her."
"You watched a video of someone you call a kitten, castrate a poor man?"
"For strategic purposes.And he isn't a poor man."
His eyes narrow
"He tried to rape her"
"Kill her now or that will be you next!"
"Can't. She's planning something"
He raises both brows at me
"A secret. Apparently It's to die for"
I watch the corner of his lip lift
"You're Insane!"
"I'm prepared. There's a difference." I straighten on my seat.
"Insane!" He deadpans
"This isn't insanity, it's long-term investment strategy. Portfolio diversification. I'm basically Warren Buffett, but with more murder and significantly better fashion sense."
Damien stares at me for a long moment, then starts laughing.
"What?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all." He repeats ruffling his hair
"Just wondering if I should start planning your funeral now or wait until she actually stabs you."
"She won't stab me."
"Carlos, she has sixteen different plans to kill you pinned to a board in her apartment."
"Fourteen. I counted."
"THAT'S YOUR TAKEAWAY?!" His hands fly off the wheel momentarily before gripping it again.
"That I miscounted your own death schemes?!"
"Gotta be thorough."
"You're delusional!" He takes a shuddering breath.
"She's nobody Damien."
"Listen to me." I do
. "People like Emma-whose body you left in the freezer for eight hours before giving him a knife to kill you-he just begged for his life. That's 'nobody.'"
I can't ignore him. His words are wrapped in genuine concern. Not loud anymore, but thunderous.
"Challenging Zara. Dethroning Marcus. Burning Santos' sons alive after nursing them back to health-they were all 'nobody.' They feared you. They knew you'd ruin them harder, so they gave up."
His jaw clenches.
"But Thalia..." He turns to face me fully.
"Damn daughter of nightshade. She's not afraid of you. You brought her to your apartment, made her your PA, gave her proof you've been stalking her-that fucking candle."
The fear in his eyes makes something uncomfortable twist in my chest.
"CARLOS, YOU'RE OBSESSED WITH HER! BEYOND THE OTHERS!"
There it is.
I know he thinks so. But she's just entertainment. The best I've had in years, admittedly.
The death of her family was unplanned. I didn't even know she existed until one of the boys mentioned her afterward. High schooler? Boring.
"Monitor her for three weeks," I told Damien six years ago.
"If nothing interesting happens, she dies."
But something interesting happened. Two weeks after her family's death, she started training for revenge.
What a thrillimg surprise.
"Shouldn't we tell her about Marcus?" Damien's voice cuts through my thoughts.
"Maybe it'll change her focus-"
"Don't you dare."
He opens his mouth, then closes it. I was harsh, but he'll deal with it.
Nothing is taking Thalia's focus away from me.
I've seen what she can do. Her first fight in the ring-seventeen years old with only five months of training. She was losing, bloodied and battered. Then her opponent pulled her hair.
She went straight for the woman's eyeballs. Dug her nails in deep, then slammed her opponent's head against the floor repeatedly. The sound of skull meeting concrete echoed as she scream at the lady while everyone watched in stunned silence felt like absolute sonata.
Perfect sound.
That venom from a seventeen-year-old was fascinating.
Now she's here, in my head. Carving herself into my bones.
"You zoned out." Damien's already driving toward Swallow Now.
"You don't see it." His voice softens. "I fear she'll ruin you. Ruin Viper Lane. Ruin everything we've worked for."
"I can't let her go," I admit, gripping his hand on the wheel.
"But her ending is set in stone. Death, brother. Just like the others."
His frustration returns, but he speeds toward our destination instead of arguing.
We arrive at Swallow Now by seven. The lounge is packed-Friday night crowd, drunk and rowdy. Perfect cover.
Shipment confirmation takes less than an hour. Oil contracts from Dubai, weapons from Bulgaria. All clean. All untraceable.
By nine, we're heading to the warehouse.
Damien's quiet. Unusual.
"You're planning my intervention, aren't you?"
"Thinking about it." He doesn't look at me.
"Or your eulogy. Haven't decided which."
"Touching."
"She followed you tonight." His knuckles are white on the wheel. "She knows now isn't when you go home."
My jaw clenches. I've lost men to her schemes. Been careful with information. If she got one of my veterans to talk, I'll have to eliminate multiple soldiers. Can't handle that loss right now.
Though part of me admires it. Keeps me sharp. Forces me to think harder.
"When you visit her tonight-be careful." Damien pulls into the warehouse district.
"Search for weapons she's gathered as your PA."
"She was my PA for less than an hour."
"It's Thalia!" His voice rises. "That's enough time, and you're too whipped to notice!"
"Whipped?! I haven't even fucked her!"
"Still whipped. You could've sent the guys."
Now I'm quiet.
He's right, and I hate it.
Damien pulls over suddenly. Puts the car in park and just sits there, staring at the steering wheel.
"What-"
"Do you remember what you told me?" This can't be good
"After Zara? You made me promise that if you ever got like her, I'd put a bullet in your head before it gets that far."
My blood runs cold.
"You're not shooting me, Damien."
"I know." He laughs, but there's no humor in it.
"That's the problem. I should. But I can't." I exhale. Ready to leave this car
"Just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"When she kills you-" His voice cracks. When, not if
"make sure she does it quick. I don't want you to suffer."
Warmth spreads through me. Qe fist bumb
I was furious this morning when she claimed to have a husband.
Almost drove to her house just to kill him but got a message.
I've stalked her as thoroughly as she's plotted against me. But for two months, I've been too preoccupied.
Tonight, I'll visit while she sleeps.
Nearly midnight when we finish. Books clean, shipments distributed. Everything smooth.
I drive alone to her apartment, blood pounding hot and fierce.
My hands are shaking on the steering wheel.
That's new.
I've killed men, burnt empires without my pulse rising. But the thought of seeing Thalia.
I don't feel fear.
So why does this feel like standing at the edge of something I can't come back from?
The anticipation is exquisite. What will I find? Anything but her husband is fine
The building comes into view. Dark except for a few scattered lights.
I park a block away. Walk the rest.
Standing outside her door now, key in hand. Her alarm already disarmed
My pulse thunders.
Hello, murderer.
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9.7
"Say you're mateless, Laia. No matter what you feel during the Ceremony, don't say a word," he whispered squeezing my bicep so tight I thought he'd leave bruise marks.
I was stupid to hope.
Years of secretly dreaming that Alphason Cael would be my mate and choose me, even while Lysandra clung to his side.
All those fantasies shatter the night of the Moon Ceremony when I am forced to lie about fate tying us together. Mateless... that's what I am to the world now.
All I want is to get my little brother and leave this damned pack forever, until one reckless kiss from Cael binds me to a new kind of doom.
For my sin, Lysandra demands a price: steal the ancient Moon Relic from the Faceless Pack, or lose my brother's freedom. She feeds me lies about helping us disappear, about covering my university costs.
Cael just stands there as the masked warriors of the most dangerous pack escort me onto the ship that will take me straight to Alpha Damon, the notorious leader of the Faceless Pack.
How am I supposed to steal from a man whose very name is shrouded in mystery and menace? A masked Alpha who watches me with burning restraint. Every damn time we're near each other, his nostrils flare and all his muscles tense as if he's holding himself back. Sometimes he fails, sometimes I feel the ghost of his touch on the tips of my hair when he thinks I am not looking.
And sometimes... I wonder if I'll survive being near him, seeing the pain in the depths of his eyes. I need to get out and leave Alpha Damon as a distant memory.
7.4
"You can't escape me, Aurora. You are mine!"
The Alpha King's roar echoed through the palace walls.
But Aurora just tightened her grip on the blade hidden beneath her cloak.
She would never-never-give herself to the monster who murdered her father.
Even if the Moon Goddess cursed her to be his mate.
***
Aurora Regalia once had everything-a loving father, a prosperous pack, and a future that glittered with promise. Her father, the king, even chose her a mate: Logan Charming. Powerful. Charismatic. Cursed.
She thought he was her destiny.
Then she watched him tear her father's head from his shoulders.
One night. One betrayal. Her entire family, slaughtered. Her pack, reduced to ashes.
Aurora jumped off a cliff that night-not to die, but to survive. To become something her enemies would never see coming.
An assassin. A ghost. A blade wrapped in silk.
For years, she trained in the shadows, fueled by one single purpose: revenge. Blood for blood. She would make Logan Charming suffer the way she had suffered. She would carve his heart out and feel nothing.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor.
The Moon Goddess looked down at her shattered daughter and laughed.
Because the man who destroyed her life?
The monster who wore her father's blood on his hands?
He was her fated mate.
Now Aurora stands at a crossroads she never asked for. Every instinct screams for vengeance. Every fiber of her being recoils at the bond pulling her toward him.
But Logan? He doesn't care about her hatred. He doesn't care about her blade.
"You can run, little mate," he whispers, crimson eyes gleaming in the dark. "But I will always find you."
And when he does?
He won't just cage her body.
He'll claim her soul.
7.0
Five years. Four hundred million dollars. And the wedding dress was never mine.
I found out on a Tuesday—a C-list actress draped in my custom Vera Wang, hanging off my fiancé's arm. Six months of French lace. Six meters of Italian silk. Every stitch a promise I had made to myself: someone finally chose me for me.
He locked the doors of that boutique. Froze my cards. Threatened my friends. Told the world I was just a delusional former assistant who didn't know her place.
The internet called me crazy, a liar, a desperate woman who couldn't take a hint. His name trended everywhere. My accounts got suspended before I could say a word.
What he never knew: his empire ran on my capital. His patents were mine. His executive assistant had been feeding me evidence for months—emails, recordings, a paper trail of fraud stretching back years.
I dialed the encrypted phone. A voice said, "I've waited five years."
"Then wait three more days," I said. "I'm going to tear his head off."
8.4
When Emma Walsh catches her boyfriend cheating just days before their holiday getaway, she's left heartbroken, homeless and jobless. Stranded in New York City with nothing but her luggage, she wanders into a bar where one reckless night with a brooding stranger changes everything. Liam O'Connor, an emotionally guarded man who is a brilliant lawyer and a single father, had promised his mother that he would return with his girlfriend. With Christmas fast approaching, he needs a fake girlfriend to survive the holidays back home. And Emma needs a fresh start with a little revenge. The deal is simple: fake smiles, pretend love with no real feelings. But when Emma meets his adorable daughter, bonds with his mother, who is warm-hearted, and starts to notice the cracks in Liam's cold exterior, the difference between real and fake starts to blur. Especially when his ex returns and secrets from the past threaten to uncover everything.
Can two broken hearts find something good under the mistletoe?
8.7
To the world, I was Delia Fitzgerald, the spoiled, vacuous daughter of the South's wealthiest family. But behind the practiced pout and expensive stilettos, I was a sleeper agent, a shadow trained for war.
The mask cracked the night my fiancé, Ansel Gibson, dumped me in the rain. He didn't just break the engagement; he recoiled in physical disgust, claiming that the very sight of me made him physically ill.
When I returned home, I expected my father to be furious about the failed business merger. Instead, I found him paralyzed by a primal terror I had never seen. It wasn't about the money; it was about a "blood debt" and a mysterious parchment that held our family's lives in the balance.
"You will go to the Gibsons and beg for forgiveness," my father rasped, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "If this contract is broken, there will be blood."
My own brothers, men who usually ruled the city, could only watch in grim silence. I realized then that I wasn't a daughter to them-I was currency, a lamb being led to the slaughter to pay for a secret I didn't even know existed.
I didn't understand why the Gibsons were so obsessed with me, or why Killian Gibson-the family's true monster-was suddenly tracking my every move with a predatory smile. He traced the callouses on my hands, marks from thousands of rounds of gunfire that no debutante should have, and whispered that he wanted me where he could see me.
If they wanted a pawn, they picked the wrong girl. I decided to stop running and walked straight into the lion's den, accepting a job as Killian's "Chief Special Assistant."
I was going to find that parchment and tear their world apart from the inside. The game had officially begun, and this time, the "Baby Girl" was the one holding the knife.
7.9
Content Warning :
This story is not safe.
It's addictive, explicit, and threaded with triggers that bite.
It drags you through obsession, trauma, and the kind of desire that hurts as much as it heals.
If you can't handle morally grey men, broken women, or the thin line between love and ruin, stop here.
If you can... keep reading.
I thought monsters only lived in the dark, until I was framed for a murder I didn't commit and dragged into a world that felt darker than any nightmare.
Where he was.
Where he's always been.
Watching me.
He doesn't love. He claims what's his and destroys anyone who touches it.
I tried to run from the shadow that haunts me, but somehow, every time, I end up running straight back to him.
He's danger wrapped in devotion.
My curse. My obsession. My undoing.
I should fear him. And I do.
But fear doesn't stop the pulse between my thighs.
Or the way my heart betrays me when he whispers my name like a threat and a prayer.
They call it madness.
I call it survival.
Because in his darkness, I stopped being hunted.
I became the desire.
He's the shadow I was meant to run from, but the one who left his hunger burning deep inside me.