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His Obsession: Her Boss, His Maid Novel Cover

His Obsession: Her Boss, His Maid

Amani Lewis takes a job at the Bennett mansion desperate and determined to keep her head down. Elijah Bennett, thirty-eight, married, and America's most powerful businessman, has never wanted anything he didn't eventually take—and he wants her. She knows it's wrong. He knows it's wrong. But when her mother's survival depends on her cooperation, running stops being an option. What begins as obsession becomes possession, then something neither can name. Then her mother is murdered, and every finger points at Elijah. The quiet girl who walked into his home picks up the wreckage of her heart and goes to war with the only man she has ever loved. He goes to war right back. Somewhere in the ruins, the truth is waiting—if either of them survives long enough to find it.
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Chapter 2

Elijah Bennett POV

"Sir, your four o'clock is finally here."

Dan hurried beside me as I walked back into my office, flipping through a folder without even looking at him.

"Send him in."

"Yes, sir."

I tossed the folder onto my desk and loosened my tie while Dan rushed out again.

A few seconds later, a knock came from the door.

"Come in."

A man stepped inside with a wide smile stretched across his face. "Mr Bennett, it is an honor to finally meet you."

"The honor is mine, Mr James." I shook his hand once before sitting down. "Sit. Let us get to business."

"Of course."

Dan quietly placed tea on the table. "I will give you both some privacy."

The moment the door shut, Mr James leaned forward excitedly.

"I have been looking into New Villa Estate for months now. Beautiful environment, good security, amazing houses. My wife loves it already."

I opened a file slowly. "You want one of the properties there?"

"Yes."

"For your family?"

A proud smile spread across his face instantly. 

"Yes."

Must be nice for some people.

I flipped through the papers in silence while he kept smiling at me like he already owned the place.

"New Villa is not for regular buyers."

His smile dropped slightly.

"The houses there are custom built. Private roads, private gym, private cinema, underground parking. We do not just hand those keys to anybody."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

He cleared his throat. "I believe I do."

I leaned back in my chair and spun the pen between my fingers. "Good. Then let us skip the sweet talk. Can you actually afford it?"

A short laugh escaped him. It died almost immediately when I kept staring at him.

"How much is the property?"

"Five point five billion dollars."

The silence that followed was almost satisfying.

His fingers slowly slipped away from the table.

I took a slow sip from my tea.

"What happened, Mr James?" I asked calmly. 

"You suddenly look sick."

"No, I just did not expect..."

"That price?"

He nodded once.

I placed the cup down carefully. "Then maybe you should stop chasing things beyond your reach."

His jaw tightened.

"You spoke a lot about family when you walked in." I rested my arms on the chair. "Surely your family deserves better than hesitation."

He looked away from me completely.

Dan walked back in quietly with more documents, then paused after noticing the tension in the room.

I did not miss the quick glance he gave Mr James.

Neither did Mr James.

"I think," Mr James said slowly while standing up, "it would be better if we continue this another time."

"Anything you want."

He grabbed his briefcase quickly and headed for the door.

"Mr James."

He stopped instantly.

The room stayed quiet for a second before I spoke again.

"Next time you request a personal meeting with me, make sure your bank account can survive the conversation."

He nodded quickly and left.

The door shut behind him.

Dan stayed frozen near the desk.

I looked at him. "How many times have I told you to run proper checks before scheduling meetings like this?"

"I am sorry, sir."

"Sorry does not fix wasted time."

He lowered his head immediately.

I walked toward him slowly and adjusted his tie myself.

"One useless meeting already ruined my mood today. Do not make it a habit."

"Yes, sir."

I grabbed my car keys from the desk. "Cancel every remaining meeting."

"But the investors from France are still waiting downstairs."

"Reschedule them."

"Yes, sir."

"And Dan."

He looked up carefully.

"The next mistake will cost you your job."

His throat moved as he swallowed hard. 

"Understood."

I walked out before he could say anything else.

The drive home felt longer than usual.

Traffic lights blinked red at every corner. Car horns layered over each other until they blurred into one long noise. People crossed roads like they had nowhere important to be.

By the time I finally pulled into the driveway, my headache had already settled behind my eyes.

The front door opened before I stepped inside.

"Baby, you are home."

Isabella walked toward me slowly in a silk robe that barely stayed tied.

"Yeah."

She reached for my tie immediately, but I stepped past her and looked around the house.

"Where is Alison?"

Isabella rolled her eyes instantly. "Seriously?"

"Where is she?"

"I fired her."

My hand paused halfway to dropping my bag.

"You what?"

"She was useless," Isabella snapped. "And honestly, she annoyed me."

"She has worked here for three years."

"And now she does not."

I stared at her for a long second.

"You fired her without speaking to me first?"

"She is a maid, Elijah. Not family."

I dropped my bag near the stairs harder than intended.

"You keep replacing staff every two weeks."

"Because they are incompetent."

"Or because you enjoy controlling people."

Her face tightened immediately.

"There is no need to raise your voice at me."

I laughed once under my breath and rubbed my forehead.

"I just got home, Isabella."

"Well, maybe if you spent more time here, you would notice the problems yourself."

I looked at her tiredly before grabbing my bag again.

"You know what? I am too exhausted for this tonight."

I walked upstairs while she called my name behind me.

Inside the bedroom, I loosened my cufflinks and tossed them onto the dresser.

The bathroom light flicked on.

Warm water hit my shoulders the second I stepped under the shower.

That was the first good thing that had happened all day.

No meetings. No fake smiles. No useless 

conversations that cost me time I would never get back.

I closed my eyes and rested one hand against the wall, leaning my head back under the stream. 

A hand suddenly slid across my back. I knew right away it was Isabella.

"I am sorry, daddy," she whispered.

Her arms came around me from behind. One hand moved across my chest, down my stomach, and wrapped around my cock with a practiced grip that made my breath catch instantly.

She stroked slowly at first.

I said nothing.

She picked up the pace, her body pressed tight against mine, warm and slick under the falling water. She reached for the soap and worked it into her palms, then gripped me again, the slickness of it making every stroke smooth and deliberate. My jaw tightened. My hips moved without my permission.

"You work so hard," she said against my back. 

"Let me take care of you."

She twisted her wrist on every upstroke. I felt the pressure build fast and heavy until my legs locked and I came hard against the wall with a low groan through gritted teeth.

She turned me around to face her.

Water ran down her cheeks, over her parted lips. 

She kissed me deep, both hands holding my jaw, her tongue slow and unhurried like she had already won something.

When she pulled back, her eyes stayed on mine.

"Now come to bed," she said quietly. "And stay this time."

I searched her face for a second longer than I should have.

That was always the problem with Isabella. She knew exactly when to stop pushing and start pulling, and I had never once figured out how to tell the difference until it was too late.

I reached past her and turned the shower off.

My phone buzzed on the counter.

I glanced down at the screen.

Unknown number: We need to talk.

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